Allgemeine geschichte der literatur

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C. Conradi, 1875 - Literature - 431 pages

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Page 113 - A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift A Love in desolation masked; -a Power Girt round with weakness; - it can scarce uplift The weight of the superincumbent hour; It is a dying lamp, a falling shower, A breaking billow; - even whilst we speak Is it not broken? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.
Page 235 - Que la trompette du jugement dernier sonne quand elle voudra, je viendrai, ce livre à la main, me présenter devant le souverain juge. Je dirai hautement : « Voilà ce que j'ai fait, ce que j'ai pensé, ce que je fus.
Page 133 - Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst, And, at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple Bar: And he — he turns, he flies: — shame on those cruel eyes That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on war!
Page 113 - His head was bound with pansies overblown, And faded violets, white, and pied, and blue; And a light spear topped with a cypress cone. Round whose rude shaft dark ivy-tresses grew Yet dripping with the forest's noonday dew, Vibrated, as the ever-beating heart Shook the weak hand that grasped it; of that crew He came the last, neglected and apart; A herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's dart.
Page 235 - Être éternel. Rassemble autour de moi l'innombrable foule de mes semblables; qu'ils écoutent mes confessions , qu'ils gémissent de mes indignités , qu'ils rougissent de mes misères °. Que chacun d'eux découvre à son tour son cœur au pied de ton trône avec la même sincérité; et puis qu'un seul te dise , s'il l'ose , Je fus meilleur que cet homme-là.
Page 81 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires! what mortal hand can e'er untie the filial band, that knits me to thy rugged strand!
Page 60 - Three poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn; The first in loftiness of thought surpassed, The next in majesty; in both the last. The force of Nature could no further go, To make a third she joined the former two.
Page 339 - Italia , Italia , o tu cui feo la sorte Dono infelice di bellezza, ond" hai Funesta dote d'infiniti guai Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porte ; Deh fossi tu men bella , o almen più forte , Onde assai più ti paventasse , o assai T'amasse men chi del tuo bello ai rai Par che si strugga , e pur ti sfida a morte ! Ch' or giù dall' Alpi io non vedrei torrenti Scender d...
Page 132 - Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right. And hark ! like the roar of the billows on the shore, The cry of battle rises along their charging line ! For God ! for the Cause ! for the Church ! for the Laws ! For Charles King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine!
Page 126 - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new : That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do...

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