Private Law Among the Romans: From the Pandects, Volume 1 |
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Page 46
... waves , as they broke upon the shores of Herculaneum , There was something singular in the situation of this tranquil abode of Christian hospitality — a small cell at the foot of a volcano and in the midst of a tempest . The hermit ...
... waves , as they broke upon the shores of Herculaneum , There was something singular in the situation of this tranquil abode of Christian hospitality — a small cell at the foot of a volcano and in the midst of a tempest . The hermit ...
Page 55
... waves break , that find me here again ! Who would have told me , a few years ago , that I should hear these wanderers moaning at the tombs of Scipio and Virgil , after they had rolled at my feet on the coast of England , or the strand ...
... waves break , that find me here again ! Who would have told me , a few years ago , that I should hear these wanderers moaning at the tombs of Scipio and Virgil , after they had rolled at my feet on the coast of England , or the strand ...
Page 108
... wave reminds him of life - a falling leaf of man . This sadness is hid in every desert for the use of poets . It is the Echo of the fable who was consumed by grief , and the invisible inhabitant of the mountains , When the mind is ...
... wave reminds him of life - a falling leaf of man . This sadness is hid in every desert for the use of poets . It is the Echo of the fable who was consumed by grief , and the invisible inhabitant of the mountains , When the mind is ...
Page 109
... wave to wave of fancied misery , At random drove , her helm of reason lost . Though now restored , ' tis only change of pain , ( A bitter change ) severer for severe . The day too short for my distress , and night , Even in the zenith ...
... wave to wave of fancied misery , At random drove , her helm of reason lost . Though now restored , ' tis only change of pain , ( A bitter change ) severer for severe . The day too short for my distress , and night , Even in the zenith ...
Page 110
From the Pandects John George Phillimore. begin to rise . The dark wave of the lake re- sounds . with its branches bare ? Bends there not a tree from Mora It bends , son of Alpin , My harp hangs on a in the rustling blast . blasted ...
From the Pandects John George Phillimore. begin to rise . The dark wave of the lake re- sounds . with its branches bare ? Bends there not a tree from Mora It bends , son of Alpin , My harp hangs on a in the rustling blast . blasted ...
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admiration America amidst ancient appeared beautiful Ben Jonson called Canada cataract charms Chateaubriand Cicero clouds coast colour death descended desert displayed England English fancy father feel forests France French friends genius gulph happy heart Heaven Horace human idea imagination impart Indian inglorius inhabitants island Juliet Lake land Liternum Livy Macduff Mackenzie Mackenzie's mankind melancholy mind Molière moun mountains Naples nation nature never night Night Thoughts North observed ocean Ossian Pacific Ocean passage passed Peace River perceived plains pleasure poet possess recollection region religion resemble river rocks Roman Rome Romeo and Juliet ruins savages scene Scipio Servoz Shakspeare Shakspeare's side Slave Lake solitude soon soul sublime summits taste tears Teverone thing thought tion Tivoli tomb tragedy traveller trees valley vapour vessel Vesuvius Villa Villa Adriana volcano Voltaire wandering waters waves West wind wished woods young
Popular passages
Page 161 - Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war ! Checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown ! ii.
Page 139 - Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day : It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Page 110 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
Page 107 - Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where Fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes : Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose, I wake : how happy they, who wake no more ! Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave. I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams Tumultuous ; where my wreck'd desponding thought, From wave to wave of fancied misery, At random drove, her helm...
Page 145 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
Page 139 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn; No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Page 131 - ... an usurper and a murderer not only odious but despicable, he therefore added drunkenness to his other qualities, knowing that kings love wine like other men, and that wine exerts its natural power upon kings. These are the petty cavils of petty minds; a poet overlooks the casual distinction of country and condition, as a painter, satisfied with the figure, neglects the drapery.
Page 119 - Sweet harmonist ! and beautiful as sweet ! And young as beautiful ! and soft as young ! And gay as soft ! and innocent as gay ! And happy (if aught happy here) as good ! For Fortune fond, had built her nest on high.
Page 162 - Good counteracting ill, and gladness woe. With gold and gems if Chilian mountains glow ; If bleak and barren Scotia's hills arise ; There plague and poison, lust and rapine grow ; Here peaceful are the vales, and pure the skies, And freedom fires the soul, and sparkles in the eyes* VII. Then grieve not, thou, to whom th...
Page 116 - Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade, Ah, fields beloved in vain, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain ? I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.