The Literature of Italy from the Origin of the Italian Language to the Death of Boccaccio: A Historical Sketch by Leonard Francis Simpson

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Page 103 - Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved : To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me, things create were none, save things
Page 58 - and Ginevra, wife of Arthur, king of England : " Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante, Questi, che mai da me non fia diviso, La bocca mi bacid tutto tremante.
Page 125 - He flapped i' th' air, that from him issued still Three winds, wherewith Cocytus to its depth Was frozen. At six eyes he wept: the tears Adown three chins distill'd with bloody foam. At every mouth his teeth a sinner champ'd, Bruised as with ponderous engine; so that three Were in this guise tormented.
Page 35 - Were all my wish fulfill'd,' I straight replied, ' Thou from the confines of man's nature yet Hadst not been driven forth; for in my mind Is fix'd, and now strikes full upon my heart, The dear, benign, paternal image, such As thine was, when so lately thou did'st teach me The way for man to win Eternity.'
Page 35 - follow but thy star, Thou canst not miss at last a glorious haven : Unless in fairer days my judgment err'd. And if my fate so early had not chanced, Seeing the Heavens thus bounteous to thee, I Had gladly given thee comfort in thy work.
Page 320 - of these summits ; and that of the poet is on the edge of a little knoll overlooking two descents, and commanding a view, not only of the glowing gardens in the dales immediately beneath, but of the wide plains above, whose low woods of mulberry and willow, thickened into a dark mass
Page 30 - it) when I heard From his own lips the name of him pronounced, Who was a father to me, and to those My betters, who have ever used the sweet And pleasant rhymes of love. So nought I heard Nor spake; but long time thoughtfully I went Gazing on him; and only for the fire, Approach'd not nearer.
Page 56 - the book, and he who wrote. That day no farther leaf we did uncover." While thus one spirit told us of their lot, The other wept, so that with pity's thralls I swoon'd, as if by death I had been smote, And fell down,
Page 120 - the rime upon the earth puts on Her dazzling sister's image, but not long Her milder sway endures; then riseth up The village hind, whom fails his wintry store, And looking out beholds the plain around All whiteu'd; whence impatiently he smites His thighs, and to his hut returning,
Page 115 - His face the semblance of a just man's wore, So kind and gracious was its outward cheer; The rest was serpent all; two shaggy claws Reach'd to the armpits; and the back and breast, And either side, were painted o'er with nodes And orbits.

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