What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
admirable Agnes amiable Anacreon Ariosto aunt Bardi beautiful better Boatswain breath Brentford called church coach cold comfort dancing dear delight Dianora eyes face feel Francis Francis de Sales genius gentle gentleman give Gossip Veronica gout grace grave Hammersmith hand happy head hear heart heaven Holland House honor human imagination Ippolito lady less live look lovers madam Madeline Madonna mind Mozart nature never Osterley Park ourselves pain perhaps person Petrarch petrifaction piano-forte picture pity pleasant pleasure poet poetry poor Porphyro present reader reason respect rich saint seems Senesino sense Shakespeare side Sir Thomas Gresham smile sort soul speak spirit suffer sure sweet taste tears thee thing thou thought tion Titian trees true turn Turnham Green Twelfth Night verses window word writing young
Page 56 - Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose, Flushing his brow, and in his pained heart Made purple riot: then doth he propose A stratagem that makes the beldame start: "A cruel man and impious thou art...
Page 97 - HOW oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway'st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
Page 60 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Page 58 - But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.
Page 53 - Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train Pass by — she heeded not at all: in vain Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier, And back retir'd; not cool'd by high disdain, But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere: She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the year.
Page 63 - These delicates he heaped with glowing hand On golden dishes and in baskets bright Of wreathed silver : sumptuous they stand In the retired quiet of the night, Filling the chilly room with perfume light. — ' And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake ! Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite : Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake, Or I shall drowse beside thec, so my soul doth ache.
Page 48 - Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold; Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seemed taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.
Page 77 - The village-clock tolled six— I wheeled about, Proud and exulting like an untired horse That cares not for his home. — All shod with steel We hissed along the polished ice, in games Confederate...
Page 54 - Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came, Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand, To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame, Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond The sound of merriment and chorus bland...
Page 52 - The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide : The level chambers, ready with their pride, Were glowing to receive a thousand guests : The carved angels, ever eager-eyed, Stared, where upon their heads the cornice rests, With hair blown back, and wings put cross-wise on their breasts.