Glimpses of Spain; Or, Notes of an Unfinished Tour in 1847, Issue 2 |
Contents
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Other editions - View all
Glimpses of Spain; Or, Notes of an Unfinished Tour in 1847 S. Teackle (Severn Teackle) Wallis No preview available - 2012 |
Glimpses of Spain; Or, Notes of an Unfinished Tour in 1847 Severn Teackle Wallis No preview available - 1849 |
Glimpses of Spain: Or Notes of an Unfinished Tour In 1847 (1849) Severn Teackle Wallis No preview available - 2008 |
Common terms and phrases
25 cents admirable Alameda Alcalde Alhambra Alicante altar Andalusian arabesques arches Barcelona beautiful beneath better Boabdil building bull Cadiz called Catalan Catalonia Cathedral chapel CHARLES ANTHON charming chulos church cloak colors columns Cordova course crowd Doña doors doubt English enter fair famous feet Ferdinand flowers Fonda friends gallery garden gentleman Gibraltar Giralda give graceful Granada guarda-costa Herman Melville hill horses labor light lofty look Malaga Malagueña marble Maria Moorish Moors moral morning mountains Murillo's Muslin night once painted passed peculiar perhaps peseta picador picture Plaza pleasant poor Puerto Real reader relics road Ronda round scarcely seemed seen Seville side sort Spain Spaniards Spanish steamer stone story strange streets style taste thing tion told towers town travelers walk walls whole WILLIAM HANNA wonder Xerez
Popular passages
Page 196 - Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear To dig the dust enclosed here : Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.
Page 222 - A merchant shall hardly keep himself from doing wrong: and a huckster shall not be freed from sin.
Page 54 - ... poco se derriban sin podellas reparar; y las tus blancas almenas, que lucen como el cristal, su lealtad han perdido y todo su bel mirar. Tu...
Page 220 - Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady's pledge ! He cried, — -and ever as he cried they felt his faulchion's edge. That day the Lord of Vargas came to the camp alone ; The scarf, his lady's largess, around his breast was thrown ; Bare was his head, his sword was red, and from his pommel strung, Seven turbans green, sore hacked I ween, before Don Garci hung.