Essays Aesthetical

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Lee and Shepard, 1875 - 264 pages
 

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Page 125 - Less than archangel ruined, and the excess Of glory obscured ; as when the sun, new risen, Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Page 168 - No man can serve two masters ; for either he will hate the one, and love the other ; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. Therefore I say unto you ; Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on.
Page 131 - Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball, The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, The farced title running 'fore the king...
Page 136 - Hence the vanity of translation ; it were as wise to cast a violet into a crucible that you might discover the formal principle of its colour and odour, as seek to transfuse from one language into another the creations of a poet.
Page 76 - Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks ! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o...
Page 144 - Poi mi rivolsi a loro, e parla' io, e cominciai: " Francesca, i tuoi martiri a lagrimar mi fanno tristo e pio. Ma dimmi: al tempo de' dolci sospiri, a che e come concedette Amore, che conosceste i dubbiosi disiri?
Page 144 - Quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso : Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse. Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante, Questi, che mai da me non fia diviso, La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante. Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse : Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.
Page 126 - Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. His spear — to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral...
Page 144 - Nessun maggior dolore Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria; e ciò sa il tuo dottore!
Page 79 - Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific— and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise— Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

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