طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
Allons Annette appearance Arras arrived banks beautiful began beneath bien boats Boulogne bright ça ira Cadet Roussel called castle cathedral church Cinq Mars Count of Provence crowd Curé dark door dreadful English father fête France French Frenchman friend the pedestrian gate Geneva gensdarme Guche guillotine harbour hastened hath heard heart holy Hôtel Hôtel de Ville innkeeper Joseph le Bon Jura mountains lady lake lived looked Louis Marseilles Monsieur morning mountains never night Orbitelle Outreau Paris passed peasant perhaps persons poor present priest Provence quay racter reached replied rest returning Rhône rich river road rock round Saint Savoy seemed shore shouted sight sing singular smile song soon standing stood streets Susa table d'hôte thee thing thou thought tion told town trees Troubadours Turin Vevay village Vive wine
الصفحة 72 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ? The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields...
الصفحة 16 - Per me si va nella città dolente; per me si va nell' eterno dolore; per me si va tra la perduta gente.
الصفحة 77 - Just in the nick, the cook knock'd thrice, And all the waiters in a trice His summons did obey; Each serving-man, with dish in hand March'd boldly up, like our train'd band, Presented, and away.
الصفحة 116 - And vainly think yourselves half happy, then When painted faces, with smooth flattering, Do fawn on you, and your wide praises sing ! And when the courting masker...
الصفحة 130 - But sure to foreign climes we need not range, Nor search the ancient records of our race, To learn the dire effects of time and change, Which in ourselves, alas ! we daily trace. Yet at the darken'd eye, the wither'd face, Or hoary hair, I never will repine : But spare, O Time, whate'er of mental grace, Of candour, love, or sympathy divine, Whate'er of fancy's ray, or friendship's flame is mine.
الصفحة 243 - Rassemblés en famille. Toi, mon chien, ne me quitte pas, Compagnon de ma gloire ; Partout tu dois suivre mes pas, Ton nom est la Victoire.
الصفحة 52 - I ; but in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say, so I swallowed my brandy, and made a second attempt to retreat.
الصفحة 4 - There your labour and pardon is odd. With small cost without any pain, These pardons bring them to heaven plain : Give me but a penny or two-pence, And as soon as the soul departeth hence, In half an hour, or three quarters at the most, The soul is in heaven with the Holy Ghost.