Paris in 1815: A Poem ...J. Murray, 1818 - 110 pàgines |
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Frases i termes més freqüents
agony altar ancient battle battle of Waterloo beauty beneath blaze blood bosom bright brow burning burst cheek cloud crime crowd crown dark deep deeper dream dying earth empire England evil fearful fiery fix'd flame flashing flung France French empire French Revolution gaze glance glare gloom glorious glory gold gone grave hall hand heart Heaven helm hour king king of day Laocoon light living look Louis Quinze Louvre massacre matchless midnight mighty morn mountain Napoleon night Note o'er pale Paris perish Peter of Verona pile plume pomp prison proud Prussia purple regicide roll roll'd rose round rush'd rushing sank scaffold shore shout sleep soul sound spear spirit splendour star Steeds stood storm sudden swell sword tear temple thee thine thou thought thousand thro throne thunders Titian tomb tower trumpet Twas Venice wall warriors wave wild wrath
Passatges populars
Pàgina 96 - Then chariot-wheels, — the nearer rush of wings ; — Pale lightning round the dark pavilion glows, It thunders, — the resplendent gates unclose ; Far as the eye can glance, on height o'er height, Rise fiery waving wings, and star-crowned brows, Millions on millions, brighter and more bright, Till all is lost in one supreme, unmingled light.
Pàgina 50 - The hour of vengeance strikes. Hark to the gale ! As it. bursts hollow through the rolling clouds, That from the north in sullen grandeur sail Like floating Alps. Advancing darkness broods Upon the wild horizon, and the woods, Now sinking into brambles, echo shrill, As the gust sweeps them, and those upper floods Shoot on their leafless boughs the sleet-drops chill, That on the hurrying crowds in freezing showers distil. They reach the wilderness ! The majesty Of solitude is spread before their gaze,...
Pàgina 49 - Friend, foe, stretched thick together, clay to clay; In vain the startled legions burst away; The land was all one naked sepulchre ; The shrinking eye still glanced on grim decay, Still did the hoof and wheel their passage tear, Through cloven helms and arms, and corpses mouldering drear.
Pàgina 104 - White bud ! thou art emblem of a lovelier thing — The broken spirit, that its anguish bears To silent shades, and there sits offering To Heaven the holy fragrance of its tears.
Pàgina 84 - ... cruel, and overbearing ; — selfish and solitary in all his pursuits and gratifications ; proud and over-weening to the very borders of insanity ; — and considering at last the laws of honour and the principles of morality, equally beneath his notice with the feelings of other men.
Pàgina 72 - ... might be, because the guards, who were relieved at that time, wished to see all the prisoners, and satisfy themselves that we were safe. The walk lasted till dinner, which was at two o'clock. After dinner, my father and mother played at tric-trac, or piquet, or, to speak more truly, pretended to play, that they might have an opportunity of saying a few words to one another.
Pàgina 47 - How glorious shone the invader's pomp afar ! Like pampered lions from the spoil they came ; The land before them silence and despair, The land behind them massacre and flame ; Blood will have tenfold blood. What are they now ? A name. Homeward by hundred thousands...
Pàgina 64 - To those who may, like the writer, incline to think that a more glorious age is about to rise upon the world, and that Waterloo was the thunderstorm which was to give the last clearing to the air before that perfect vision, it assumes a loftier character than its mortal triumph. It seems to bear the features of a grand, immediate interposition of Superior Power. The final overthrow of the French empire, which was atheistic, jacobin, and revolutionary...
Pàgina 15 - Scattered and sickly on the naked wall ; Through the time-crusted casement scarcely shown The rafter'd roof, the floor of chilling stone, . The crazy bed, the mirror that betrays Frameless, where vanity yet loves to gaze ; And still, the symbols of his darker trade, The musquet, robber-pistol, sabre blade, Hung rusting, where around the scanty fire His squalid offspring watch its brands expire.
Pàgina 82 - All the troops in Paris had been under arms from five o'clock in the morning. The beat of drums, the clash of arms, the trampling of...