Pictures of Travel

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D. Appleton, 1898 - 389 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 299 - day in night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night, Whiter than new snow on a raven's back — Come, gentle night ; come, loving, black-browed night, Give me my Romeo — or Gumpelino!' — But ah ! Lord Maxfield watches us all the time, and we're both dying with intense desire. I shall never survive the day when either sets the blossom of youthful
Pàgina 268 - Up laughed the wild answer : — " When I am o' horseback, I will swear I love thee infinitely." CHAPTER III " A CURIOUS woman ! " repeated Gumpelino, as we went our way to visit his two lady friends, Signora Letitia and Signora Francesca, whose acquaintance he promised me. As the dwelling of these ladies was situated on a somewhat distant
Pàgina 127 - ira," and I said to my mother that we , were all to be made happy, and that on that account we had \ that day no school. CHAPTER VII THE next day the world was again all in order, and we had school as before, and things were got by heart as before
Pàgina 128 - can't be taken from three, therefore I must borrow one " — but I advise all, in such a case, to borrow a few extra dollars, for no one can tell what may happen. But oh ! the Latin ! — Madame, you can really have no , idea of what a mess it is. The Romans would never have
Pàgina 301 - and where there must be for certain a nightingale singing — or maybe a lark — " " It is the nightingale and not the lark ! " sighed Gumpelino in parenthesis. " ' Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree, Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Pàgina 62 - The formless, dark gray daughters of air, Which from the sea, in cloudy buckets, Scoop up the water, Ever wearied lifting and lifting, And then pour it again in the sea, A mournful, wearisome business, And useless too as this life of mine. The waves are murm'ring, the sea-gulls screaming, Old
Pàgina 299 - and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.'
Pàgina 135 - and golden. A long avenue of lindens rises blooming around, on the leafy twigs sit singing nightingales, the waterfall rustles, flowers are growing from full round beds, dreamily nodding their fair heads — I stood amidst them once in wondrous intimacy, the rouged tulips, proud as beggars, condescendingly greeted me, the nervous sick lilies nodded with
Pàgina 137 - who suffered and died under Sir Hudson Lowe, as it is written in the evangelists, Las Casas, O'Meara and Autommarchi. Strange ! A terrible destiny has already overtaken the three greatest enemies of the emperor. Londonderry has cut his throat, Louis XVIII. has rotted away on his throne, and Professor Saalfeld is still, as before, professor in Göttingen.

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