レビュー - レビューを書く
Arabian bank beauty birds blue boat Cairo called cataract cents character columns Commander court crew dancing dark dead death donkeys dream East Eastern Egypt Egyptian face fair fancy feel figures float flowers forever forms friends Gods golden graceful Greek green half hands head heard History Howadji human Ibis imagination Italy kings land landscape leave light live looked Memnon memory mind moonlight morning mountains Muslin nature never night Nile Nubian Pacha palms passed Persian plain poet Portrait present race reached remains river rock ruins sails sand sculptures seems seen Sheep shore side silence singing smoke song soul sound stand strange stream sunset sweet temple thing thought tombs trees turbaned turned vols walls West Western wind wings wonder young
258 ページ - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed 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.
258 ページ - 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 invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony, Enthroned i...
258 ページ - 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.
122 ページ - Than petals from blown 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 tired eyelids upon tired eyes ; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.