...their conversation much in the same strain in Italian : this elicited a second reproof conveyed in — That soft bastard Latin Which melts like kisses from...mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin. This was worse and worse, and extorted from one of them the remark, " We really must respect the delicacy...

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

...borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...our harsh northern, whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all. I like the women too, (forgive my folly), From...

...drunken man's dead eye in maudlin sorrow, But with all Heaven t* himself; that day will break as XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a fournie muuth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet...

...sort of {«ruling candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. XLIV. I shriek it from their caves ; The scroll» of Enoch prophesied it long I n female mouth, And sounds as if it should he writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet...

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

...the termination of words. Thus Lord Byron compliments the Italian in comparison with our own : " I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...sounds as if it should be writ on satin With syllables that breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in That not a single accent...

...sort of farthing-candle light which glimmers Wtiere reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLiV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...sweet south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, 'I hat not a single accent seems uncouth, LIKO our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Whicn...

...Italian tengue: " I love the language that soft bastard Latin, That flows like liquid music from the mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables that, breath« of the sweet south. And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent...

...indifferent ear of the Zouaves on the one hand, or the defective taste of the Austrians on the other. 2 " I love the language, that soft, bastard Latin, Which...our harsh northern, whistling, grunting, guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss and spit and sputter all." LOSD BYRON, Beppo, st. XLIT. selves concerning...