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" I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent... "
The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake - Страница 311
по George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1825
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The Northern star, or, Yorkshire magazine, Том 3

Arthur Jewitt - 1818 - 336 страници
...seen no more below." When he comes to Italy, the garden of the Muses, he writes in his own style ! " I love the language that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female month, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,...

The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of ..., Томове 1–2

1818 - 628 страници
...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. " I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're oblig'd to hiss, and spit, and «putter all. " I like the women too, (forgive my folly,)...

The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Том 29

1818 - 590 страници
...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. * I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're oblig'd to hiss, and spit, and sputter all. ' I like the women too (forgive my folly),...

Beppo: A Venetian Story

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1818 - 70 страници
...sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding alt so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting...

Spirit of the English Magazines, Том 3

1818 - 502 страници
...XLI. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, W h.ch melts li ke kisses frnm a female month, ArM sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables...so pat in. That not a single accent seems uncouth, • ** Cortejo" is pronounced ** CorteAo,*' with an aspirate according to the Arabesque guttural. It...

The Gentleman's Magazine, Том 88, Част 2; Том 124

1818 - 724 страници
...female And sounds as if it should be writ on satin [sweet South, With syllables which breathe of the And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in That not...Like our harsh Northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all." The Poem has been given to a large parentage;...

Robinson's Magazine: A Weekly Repository of Original Papers and ..., Том 1

1818 - 428 страници
...sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers \Vlierereeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLI. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds a* if it should be writ on satin. With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, Том 81

1818 - 638 страници
...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. й I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female month, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,...

Hermes; oder kritisches Jahrbuch der Literatur, Томове 1–2

1819 - 884 страници
...sort of farthing candlelight, which glimmers, Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers, . ','r\ I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, • "Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, , Wliich we're oblig'd to hiss, and spit, and sputter all. I like the women too (forgive my folly)...

The works of ... lord Byron, Томове 7–8

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1819 - 466 страници
...sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers, XLIV. I love the language , that soft bastard Latin, Which...of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all sa pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,...




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