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Angiolina aught Avogadori behold Bertram better blood Bluem cause chief conspirators Council Council of Ten death Doge of Venice doth ducal Duke duty earth English evil eyes father feelings Francesca FRANCESCA OF RIMINI Genoese glory hand hath head hear heart Heaven hell honour hour insult IsrAEL BERTUccio King knew Lady Blueb less Lioni lived Lord Byron Marino Faliero Michael Michel Steno ne'er never Niccolo noble o'er offence opinions palace passion patrician person Philip Calendaro pity poem poet prince punishment Ravenna Robert Southey Saint Mark's Saint Peter Satan Satanic School Scamp scene senate sentence shame signor soul Southey Southey's sovereign speak spirit thee thine things thought tragedy traitors Treviso true twas unto Venetian Wat Tyler words wretch writings written youth
Seite 8 - Poi mi rivolsi a loro, e parla' io, E cominciai: Francesca, i tuoi martiri A lagrimar mi fanno tristo e pio. Ma dimmi: al tempo de' dolci sospiri, A che e come concedette amore, Che conosceste i dubbiosi desiri?
Seite 245 - ... footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison : not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist ; He never saw the sun's delightful beams, Save when through yon high bars he pour'da sad And broken splendour.
Seite 256 - God save the king!" It is a large economy In God to save the like: but if he will Be saving, all the better; for not one am I Of those who think damnation better still...
Seite 20 - Fame! — if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover She thought that I was not unworthy to love her. There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.
Seite 295 - For all corrupted things are buoy'd like corks, By their own rottenness, light as an elf, Or wisp that flits o'er a morass: he lurks, It may be, still, like dull books on a shelf, In his own den, to scrawl some 'Life' or 'Vision,' As Welborn says — 'the devil turn'd precisian.
Seite 246 - Tothill, or thy street, St. Giles, its fair varieties expand ; Till at the last, in slow-drawn cart, she went To execution. Dost thou ask her crime ? SHE WHIPPED TWO FEMALE 'PRENTICES TO DEATH, AND HID THEM IN THE COAL-HOLE.
Seite 15 - Sweet hour of twilight ! — in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood...
Seite 309 - ... with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength, and therefore they loved him as truly and as fervently as he loved England.
Seite 118 - They never fail who die In a great cause: the block may soak their gore ;(') Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom...