The Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert Browning, Volumen2Houghton, Mifflin, 1899 |
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Términos y frases comunes
Adolf All's Anael arms Austin Berth blood Brac Braccio breast breath brow cheek Chiappino Cleves COLOMBE'S BIRTHDAY Courtiers dare death deed Djabal Domizia Dramatic Lyrics dream Druses Duchess Duke earth eyes face Faenza faith Florence Florentine Gaucelme Giotto give God's gold grace Guen Guendolen Guibert Hakeem hand head hear heard heart heaven hope Jacynth Juliers keep Khalil lady lady's laugh leave Lebanon lips live look Lord Loys Lucca Luitolfo Luria Mildred neath never night Nuncio o'er once Pisa poem praise Prefect Prince Puccio ride rose round sake seemed shame soul speak stand sure sure as fate tell thee there's thine Thorold thou thought Tresh Tresham truth turn Valence Venice wait word wrong
Pasajes populares
Página 286 - Never gave the enraptured air) There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering; And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, Out came the children running. All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting...
Página 4 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed !" echoed the wall to us galloping through ; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then...
Página 5 - So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!
Página 231 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two.
Página 12 - Gr-rr — there go, my heart's abhorrence! Water your damned flower-pots, do! If hate killed men, Brother Lawrence, God's blood, would not mine kill you! What? your myrtle-bush wants trimming? Oh, that rose has prior claims — Needs its leaden vase filled brimming? Hell dry you up with its flames!
Página 234 - E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt, Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet The company below, then. I repeat, The Count your master's known munificence Is ample warrant that no just pretence Of mine for dowry will be disallowed; Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed At starting, is...
Página 312 - That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it.
Página 286 - Once more he stept into the street ; and to his lips again laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; and ere he blew three notes (such sweet soft notes as yet musician's cunning never gave the enraptured air) there was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling of merry crowds justling, at pitching and hustling, small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering, and, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, out came the children running.
Página 36 - So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold. Dear dead women, with such hair, too — what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms ? I feel chilly and grown old.
Página 46 - Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!