The Idler in Italy, New Series

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Baudry's European Library, 1841 - 195 páginas

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Página 66 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
Página 117 - In veder che ora innonorato resti ! Prezioso diaspro, agata, ed oro Foran debito fregio e appena degno Di rivestir si nobile tesoro. Ma no ; tomba fregiar d' uom eh' ebbe regno Vuoisi, e por gemme ove disdice alloro : Qui basta il nome di quel Divo Ingegno.
Página 94 - No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never!
Página 65 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Página 123 - It is my soul that calls upon my name : How silver sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!
Página 40 - NEGLI anni acerbi tuoi purpurea rosa sembravi tu, ch' ai rai tepidi, a 1' óra non apre '1 sen, ma nel suo verde ancora verginella s' asconde e vergognosa ; o più tosto parei, chè mortal cosa non s' assomiglia a te, celeste aurora, che le campagne imperla ei monti indora, lucida in ciel sereno e rugiadosa. Or la men verde età nulla a te toglie ; nè te, benchè negletta, in manto adorno giovinetta beltà vince o pareggia.
Página 65 - Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers. And such she was; her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.

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