Minstrel-love: From the German of the Author of Undine, Volume 2

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W. Simpkin & R. Marshall, 1821 - German fiction
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Page 352 - In thus quietly gliding downwards we meet with few of the cares and shocks of this lower world ; we have little more to do than to pluck its flowers ; a foretaste of the disembodied state is breathing round us : those who love us have more thought and more affection for the departing one ; and those who do not love us, we more lightly and easily pardon, regardful of the text, — " Forgive, as we would be forgiven...
Page 351 - ... IT has been often said that a slow wasting disease of the body must press heavily upon the soul, which sees its departure from the friendly world approach step by step, and counts as it were the leaves of bloom which drop one after the other. Where, however, no distorting pains interfere, and where the departing one does not love too much that which is called life, nor hate too much that which is called death, it may not be so bad as is imagined. If we drink the last flask of a noble wine with...
Page 351 - It has often been said that a slow, wasting disease of the body, must press heavily upon the soul, which sees its departure from the friendly world approach step by step, and counts as it were the leaves of bloom which drop one after another. When, however, no distorting pains interfere, and when the departing one does not love too much that which is called life, nor hate too much that which is called death, it may not be so bad as is imagined. If we drink the last flask of a noble wine with a pleasure...
Page 372 - none pass into sleep so softly and gently as the poet." • ." '. > " Amen !" said Arnald in a subdued tone, and folded his hands, while his friend, without observing it, continued thus with increasing animation ; . " The poet's life — as far as...
Page 352 - Forgive, as we would be forgiven," — as well as mindful of the short time which we have to pilgrimage together ; and where a tear flows from the eye, it flows almost visibly as pearl-seed into the life of Paradise. Whoever has experienced such gentle suffering, will not deny us his assent — at all events it was truly so with Arnald.
Page 378 - Many thy gifts, — a minstrel's fire, For war a sword, for love a lyre, To triumph in the battle hour, To sing of love in beauty's bow'r.
Page 12 - Yet it seemed strange to the Troubadour, that all these forms of men and beasts grew, as it were, out of the cups of flowers, or wreaths of clouds, and so far seemed to have less resemblance to human life than to plants and airy images.
Page 373 - ... covering of earth, and floats up into the kingdom, which belongs to him from the right imparted to his soul by Heaven.
Page 351 - ... one after another. When, however, no distorting pains interfere, and when the departing one does not love too much that which is called life, nor hate too much that which is called death, it may not be so bad as is imagined. If we drink the last flask of a noble wine with a pleasure which we did not know before, why not also these last drops of the earthly being ? In thus gliding quietly...
Page 378 - Thou gav'st me pain with deep delight, A glorious morn with shades of night ; And now a fresh and laurell'd grave Within the land I help'd to save.

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