 | Alfred Noe - 1994 - 236 páginas
...Haroldian The Isles of Greece, inserted in Canto III of Don Juan (1818): Place me by Sunium's marbled steep Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-tike, let me sing and die; A land of slaves shall never be mine Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!... | |
 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1996 - 830 páginas
...have a king who buys and sells; In native swords, and native ranks, 13 632 FRANCESCA OF RIMINI 15 85 Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance...glowing maid, My own the burning tear-drop laves, 90 To think such breasts must suckle slaves. Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save... | |
 | Dionysios Solōmos, Hans-Christian Günther - 2000 - 304 páginas
...vor (AdD). Solomos meint das Gedicht The Isles of Greece im dritten Gesang des Don Juan III 86, 15 (Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!/ Our virgins...laves,/ To think such breasts must suckle slaves); vgl. auch ibid. III 30 und 33 Solomos' Worte erinnern außerdem an ein zakynthisches Volkslied. Vgl.... | |
 | Jerome McGann - 2002 - 311 páginas
...war and violence. But no such life is possible when the social structure is degenerate at its ground. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance...tear-drop laves, To think such breasts must suckle slaves. (<5) In such times the image of love itself becomes an occasion for swerving toward heroic values.... | |
 | James A. Arieti - 2005 - 386 páginas
...temples showed the same themes repeatedly, Figure 3. Sounion In Lord Byron's verse, "Sounion's marbled steep,/ Where nothing save the waves and I may hear our mutual murmurs sweep," is the rocky headland that rises nearly 200 feet above the sea. 24 Here stands a majestic temple of... | |
 | 廖七一 - 2006 - 344 páginas
...hope of courage dwells; But Turkish force, and Latin fraud, Would break your shield, however broad. XV Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance beneath the shade@ I see their glorious black shine; But gazing on each glowing maid, My own the burning tear-drop laves, To think such breasts must... | |
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