Nile Notes of a Howadji

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Harper & Brothers, 1856 - 320 страница

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Страница 280 - Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were lovesick with them. The oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It beggared all description. She did lie In her pavilion, cloth-of-gold of tissue, O'erpicturing that Venus where we see The fancy outwork nature.
Страница 272 - Never ; he will not : Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety : other women cloy The appetites they feed : but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies : for vilest things Become themselves in her; that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish.
Страница 281 - So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings ; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers ; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange, invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony, Enthroned in the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air ; which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap in nature.
Страница 52 - Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands. Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist," Foot it featly" here and there, And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Burden (dispersedly) . Hark, hark! Bow-woW. The watch-dogs bark ! Bow-woW. ART. Hark, hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, " Cock-a-diddle-doW." FER. Where should this music be ? I' the air or the earth ? It sounds no more ; and, sure, it waits upon Some god o
Страница 280 - Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings; at the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange...
Страница 272 - Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies ; for vilest things 235 Become themselves in her, that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish.
Страница 117 - ... roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes ; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro...
Страница 280 - ... that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It beggar'd all description; she did lie In her pavilion,— cloth-of-gold of tissue,— O'er-picturing that Venus where we see The fancy outwork nature...
Страница 168 - Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings ; Or embassies from regions far remote, In various habits, on the Appian road, Or on the...
Страница 3 - But he rather stared than saluted, as friends may, in a masquerade. There was Sinbad the porter, too, hurrying to Sinbad the sailor. I turned and watched his form fade in the twilight, yet I doubt if he reached Bagdad in time for the eighth history. Scarce had he passed when a long string of donkeys ambled by, bearing each, one of the inflated balloons. It was a hareem taking the evening air. A huge eunuch was the captain, and rode before.

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