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Abbot appears bear beauty blood bound breath canto cause character Count Dante dark dead death deep earth eyes fear feel Florence friends genius giant give glory half hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Italian Italy king knew language leave less letters light live look Lord Lord Byron Manfred means mind Morgante mortal mountain nature never night noble o'er once original Orlando pain pass passions past perhaps person poem poet present Pulci reader rest rise scene seems soul speak Spirit stars suffer tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Venice verse voice waves whole wild wish written
Page 23 - How glorious in its action and itself ! But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, Till our mortality predominates, And men are — what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
Page 31 - 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 67 - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. - Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face ; Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
Page 14 - The Glacier's cold and restless mass Moves onward day by day ; But I am he who bids it pass, Or with its ice delay.
Page 37 - She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not; And tenderness — but that I had for her; Humility — and that I never had. Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own — I loved her, and destroy 'd her!
Page 68 - Caesars' palace came The owl's long cry, and, interruptedly, Of distant sentinels the fitful song Begun and died upon the gentle wind. Some cypresses beyond the time-worn breach Appeared to skirt the horizon ; yet they stood Within a bow-shot.
Page 61 - This should have been a noble creature: he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, It is an awful chaos— Light and Darkness— And mind and dust— and passions and pure thoughts Mixed, and contending without end or order,— All dormant or destructive.
Page 68 - Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome ; The trees which grew along the broken arches Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars Shone through the rents of ruin ; from afar The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber ; and More near from out the Caesars...
Page 49 - Hear me, hear me — Astarte ! my beloved ! speak to me : I have so much endured — so much endure — Look on me ! the grave hath not changed thee more Than I am changed for thee.