Memoir of the Rev. Henry Francis Cary, M. A., Translator of Dante: With His Literary Journal and Letters, Band 2

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E. Moxon, 1847
 

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Seite 269 - 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.
Seite 260 - Their chequered leaves the branches shed; Whirling in eddies o'er my head, They sadly sigh that Winter's near: The warning voice I hear behind, That shakes the wood without a wind, And solemn sounds the death-bell of the year.
Seite 246 - Yet art thou not all lost ; through many an age, With sterling sense and humour, shall thy page Win many an English bosom, pleased to see That old and happier vein revived in thee. This for our earth. And if with friends we share Our joys in heaven, we hope to meet thee there.
Seite 93 - Sir, in these matters I am so fearful, that I dare not speak further ; yea, almost none otherwise, than the very text doth (as it were) lead me by the hand.
Seite 263 - Paean's son, unwonted erst to tears, Wept o'er his wound : alike each rolling light Of heaven he watched, and blamed its lingering flight, By day the sea-mew screaming round his cave Drove slumber from his eyes, the chiding wave And savage howlings chased his dreams by night.
Seite 269 - E che lo nuovo peregrin d' amore Punge, se ode squilla di lontano Che paja '1 giorno pianger che si muore.
Seite 122 - I have lately had an Italian staying with me, who thinks he has made great discoveries as to the political allusions in Dante and wished for my opinion of them. I am inclined to believe them not altogether visionary ; but that like other framers of hypotheses, he pulls down too much of what has been raised by others to erect his own fabric. His name is Gabriele...
Seite 263 - Through his rude grot, he heard a coming oar ; In each white cloud a coming sail he spied ; Nor seldom listened to the fancied roar Of CEta's torrents, or the hoarser tide That parts famed Trachis from the Euboic shore.
Seite 196 - MY DEAR FRIEND, — For I am sure by my love for you that you love me too well to have suffered my very rude and uncourteous vehemence of contradiction and reclamation respecting your advocacy of the Catilinarian Reform Bill, when we were last together, to have cooled, much less alienated your kindness ; even though the interim had not been a weary, weary time of groaning and life-loathing for me.

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