Mémoires publiés par Thomas Moore, Volume 3

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Page 290 - The world is all before me; I but ask Of Nature that with which she will comply — It is but in her summer's sun to bask, To mingle with the quiet of her sky, To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy.
Page 287 - My sister ! my sweet sister ! if a name Dearer and purer were, it should be thine ; Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim No tears, but tenderness to answer mine : Go where I will, to me thou art the same — A loved regret which I would not resign. There yet are two things in my destiny, — A world to roam through, and a home with thee.
Page 140 - De tous ces amusemens , celui qui me plut davantage fut une promenade autour du lac , que je fis en bateau avec Deluc père, sa bru , ses deux fils et ma Thérèse.
Page 288 - Mine were my faults, and mine be their reward. My whole life was a contest, since the day That gave me being, gave me that which...
Page 191 - I've advertised, but see my books, Or only watch my shopman's looks; — Still Ivan, Ina, and such lumber, My back-shop glut, my shelves encumber. There's Byron too, who once did better, Has sent me, folded in a letter, A sort of — it's no more a drama Than Darnley, Ivan, or Kehama: So altered since last year his pen is, I think he's lost his wits at Venice.
Page 291 - For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart I know myself secure, as thou in mine ; We were and are — I am, even as thou art — Beings who ne'er each other can resign ; It is the same, together or apart, From life's commencement to its slow decline We are entwined — let death come slow or fast, The tie which bound the first endures the last...
Page 289 - Which do remember me of where I dwelt Ere my young mind was sacrificed to books, Come as of yore upon me, and can melt My heart with recognition of their looks; And even at moments I could think I see Some living thing to love — but none like thee.
Page 76 - J'eus un instant d'enthousiasme, et, oubliant la juste répugnance que tout homme un peu fier doit avoir à se faire présenter à un pair d'Angleterre, je priai M. de Brème de m'introduire à lord Byron.
Page 288 - The gift, — a fate, or will, that walk'd astray; And I at times have found the struggle hard, And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay: But now I fain would for a time survive, If but to see what next can well arrive.
Page 75 - Ce fut pendant l'automne de 1816 que je le rencontrai au théâtre de la Scala, à Milan, dans la loge de M. Louis de Brème. Je fus frappé des yeux de lord Byron au moment où il écoutait un sestetto d'un opéra de Mayer, intitulé Elena. Je n'ai vu de ma vie rien de plus beau ni de plus expressif. Encore aujourd'hui, si je viens à penser à l'expression qu'un grand peintre devrait donner au génie, cette tête sublime reparaît tout-à-coup devant moi.

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