Dante and the English Poets from Chaucer to Tennyson

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H. Holt, 1904 - 277 pages

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Page 165 - Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas, on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way, As the far bell of vesper makes him start, Seeming to weep the dying day's decay.
Page 252 - Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this...
Page 233 - While he mused and traced it and retraced it, (Peradventure with a pen corroded Still by drops of that hot ink he dipped for, When, his left-hand i
Page 111 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 153 - God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Page 78 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod...
Page 253 - Old age hath yet his honor and his toil. Death closes all; but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done...
Page 91 - Sonetto, apparve a me una mirabile visione, nella quale io vidi cose che mi fecero proporre di non dir più di questa benedetta, infino a tanto che io non potessi più degnamente trattare di lei. E di venire a ciò io studio quanto posso, si com'ella sa veracemente.
Page 144 - Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies, Nor unto Tempe, where Jove grieved a day, But to that second circle of sad Hell, Where in the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw Of rain and hailstones, lovers need not tell Their sorrows : — pale were the sweet lips I saw, Pale were the lips I kiss'd, and fair the form I floated with, about that melancholy storm.
Page 235 - None but would forego his proper dowry, Does he paint? he fain would write a poem, Does he write? he fain would paint a picture, Put to proof art alien to the artist's, Once, and only once, and for One only...

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