Ueber die Originalität des Byronschen Manfred: eine philologische Untersuchung

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J.D. Jäger, 1842 - 25 pages
 

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Page 17 - Das Drüben kann mich wenig kümmern; Schlägst du erst diese Welt zu Trümmern, Die andre mag darnach entstehn. Aus dieser Erde quillen meine Freuden, Und diese Sonne scheinet meinen Leiden; Kann ich mich erst von ihnen scheiden, Dann mag, was will und kann, geschehn.
Page 24 - Nor would redeem a moment of that hour ; I do not combat against death, but thee And thy surrounding angels ; my past power Was purchased by no compact with thy crew, But by superior science— penance — daring — And length of watching — strength of mind — and skill , In knowledge of our fathers...
Page 24 - Back to thy hell! Thou hast no power upon me, that I feel; Thou never shalt possess me, that I know: What I have done is done; I bear within A torture which could nothing gain from thine. The mind which is immortal makes itself Requital for its good or evil thoughts, Is its own origin of ill and end, And its own place and time; its innate sense, When stripp'd of this mortality, derives No colour from the fleeting things without, But is absorb'd in sufferance or in joy, Born from the knowledge of...
Page 19 - I have no choice ; there is no form on earth Hideous or beautiful to me. Let him, Who is most powerful of ye, take such aspect As unto him may seem most fitting — Come ! Seventh Spirit. (Appearing in the shape of a beautiful female figure.) Behold ! Man. Oh God ! if it be thus, and thou Art not a madness and a mockery, I yet might be most happy.
Page 13 - Hesperus ! thou bringest all good things — Home to the weary, to the hungry cheer, To the young bird the parent's brooding wings, The welcome stall to the...
Page 23 - My God! my God! look not so fierce on me! Adders and serpents, let me breathe awhile ! Ugly hell, gape not!
Page 4 - The torrent is in shape curving over the rock, like the tail of a white horse streaming in the wind, such as it might be conceived would be that of the ' pale horse ' on which Death is mounted in the Apocalypse.
Page 4 - It is not noon— the Sunbow's rays still arch The torrent with the many hues of heaven, And roll the sheeted silver's waving column O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular, And fling its lines of foaming light along, And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, As told in the Apocalypse.
Page 10 - ... neither the music of the Shepherd, the crashing of the Avalanche, nor the torrent, the mountain, the Glacier, the Forest, nor the Cloud, have for one moment lightened the weight upon my heart, nor enabled me to lose my own wretched identity in the majesty, and the power, and the Glory, around, above, and beneath me.
Page 23 - I do repent; and yet I do despair; Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast : What shall I do to shun the snares of death?

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