Aurora LeighC. S. Francis & Company, 1857 - 351 من الصفحات "A novel in blank verse by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, published in 1857. The first-person narrative, which comprises some 11,000 lines, tells of the heroine's childhood and youth in Italy and England, her self-education in her father's hidden library, and her successful pursuit of a literary career. Initially resisting a marriage proposal by the philanthropist Romney Leigh, Aurora later surrenders her independence and weds her faithful suitor, whose own idealism has also since been tempered by experience. Aurora's career, Romney's social theories, and a melodramatic subplot concerning forced prostitution elicit the author's vivid observations on the importance of poetry, the individual's responsibility to society, and the victimization of women"--Everand website, viewed December 7, 2023. |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
answered Aurora Leigh babe better blood blue air breath catch cheeks child cousin Romney creature dead dear Delorme dream drop dropt earth eyes face father feel felt finger Florence flower girl God's grave grief half hand head heart heaven henceforth honour Italy Kate Ward keep kiss knew Lady Waldemar laugh leave light lips live look Lord man's Marian Erle Mark Gage marriage mastodons Miss Leigh morning mother Muse nature never night nosegay once passion paused perhaps phalanstery pity poet poor pray pretty Proclus Romney Leigh Romney's rose round sate scarcely sigh sight silence Sir Blaise smile soul speak spoke stand stood sure sweet talk thank there's thing thought touch truth turned Tuscan twas twixt Vaucluse voice walk weep wife woman women word write wrong
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 3 - Women know The way to rear up children (to be just) ; They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, And stringing pretty words that make no sense, And kissing full sense into empty words ; Which things are corals to cut life upon, Although such trifles...
الصفحة 176 - As drowsy as the shepherds. What is art But life upon the larger scale, the higher, When, graduating up in a spiral line Of still expanding and ascending gyres, It pushes toward the intense significance Of all things, hungry for the Infinite ? Art 's life, — and where we live, we suffer and toil.
الصفحة 39 - I learnt to love that England. Very oft, Before the day was born, or otherwise Through secret windings of the afternoons, I threw my hunters off and plunged myself Among the deep hills, as a hunted stag Will take the waters, shivering with the fear And passion of the course. And when at last Escaped, so many a green slope built on slope Betwixt me and the...
الصفحة 339 - It takes a soul, To move a body: it takes a high-souled man, To move the masses, even to a cleaner stye: It takes the ideal, to blow a hair's-breadth off The dust of the actual. — Ah, your Fouriers failed, Because not poets enough to understand That life develops from within.
الصفحة 290 - I called myself, For that time. I just knew it when we swept Above the old roofs of Dijon : Lyons dropped A spark into the night, half trodden out Unseen. But presently the winding Rhone Washed out the moonlight large along his banks Which strained their yielding curves out clear and clean To hold it, — shadow of town and castle blurred Upon the hurrying river.
الصفحة 187 - I do distrust the poet who discerns No character or glory in his times, And trundles back his soul five hundred years, Past moat and drawbridge, into a castle-court, To sing — oh not of lizard or of toad Alive i...
الصفحة 194 - O sorrowful great gift Conferred on poets, of a twofold life, When one life has been found enough for pain ! We, staggering 'neath our burden as mere men, Being called to stand up straight as demi-gods...
الصفحة 17 - By the way, The works of women are symbolical. We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight, Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir, To put on when you're weary - or a stool To stumble over and vex you . . . 'curse that stool!' Or else at best, a cushion, where you lean And sleep, and dream of something we are not But would be for your sake. Alas, alas! This hurts most, this - that, after all, we are paid The worth of our work, perhaps.
الصفحة 304 - Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees, takes off his shoes...
الصفحة 41 - ... woods, netted in a silver mist, Farms, granges, doubled up among the hills; And cattle grazing in the watered vales, And cottage-chimneys smoking from the woods, And cottage-gardens smelling everywhere, Confused with smell of orchards. 'See,