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" Her mantle laps " Over my Lady's wrist too much," or " Paint " Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat;" such stuff Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough For calling up that spot of joy. "
Lyrics, Idyls, and Romances from the Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert ... - Página 66
por Robert Browning - 1887 - 187 páginas
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Papers on Literature and Art, Partes 1-2

Margaret Fuller - 1846 - 382 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek ; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps " Over my Lady's wrist too much," or " Paint " Must...she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went every where. Sir, 'twas all one ! My favour at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West,...
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Papers on literature and art, Parte 2

Sarah Margaret Ossoli (march.) - 1846 - 198 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek ; perhaps Fr& Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps " Over my Lady's wrist too much," or " Paint " Must...she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went every where. Sir, 'twas all one ! My favour at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West,...
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Papers on Literature and Art

Margaret Fuller - 1848 - 384 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps " Over my Lady's wrist too much," or " Paint " Must...enough For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart—how shall I say—too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on,...
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The Sibyl: Or, New Oracles from the Poets

Caroline Howard Gilman - 1848 - 320 páginas
...sunshine broken in the rill Though turned astray is sunshine still. MOORE — Lalla Rookh. 34. She has A heart . . how shall I say ? . . too soon made glad, Too easily impressed ; she likes whate'er She looks on, and her looks go everywhere. Oh, Sir, she smiles no doubt Whene'er you...
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The English Review, Volume 11

1849 - 538 páginas
...style of the majority of Mr. Browning's lyrics. The Italian's jealousy is thus finely indicated : — " She had A heart . . . how shall I say ? . . too soon made glad, . . Too easily impress'd : — she liked whate'er She look'd on, and her looks went every where. — Sir, 'twas all...
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Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and People

Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 592 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much," or " Paint Must never hope to reproduce the fiiitit Half-flush that dies along her throat;" such stuff Was courtesy she thought; and cause enough...
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Literature and Art

Margaret Fuller - 1852 - 364 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek ; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps " Over my Lady's wrist too much," or " Paint " Must...she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went every where. Sir, 'twas all one ! My favour at her b/east, The dropping of the daylight in the West,...
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Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places, and People, Volume 1

Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 344 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' check : perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much," or " Paint Must never...how shall I say ? — too soon made glad, Too easily imprest ; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one ! my...
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Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and People

Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 580 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much," or " Paint Must never...that spot of joy. She had A heart — how shall I say 1 — too soon made glad, Too easily imprest ; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went...
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Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places and People

Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 588 páginas
...called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek ; perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say " Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much," or " Paint Must never...that spot of Joy. She had A heart — how shall I sayl — too soon made glad, Too easily imprest ; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went...
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