The story of Florence

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J.M. Dent, 1903 - Florence (Italy) - 435 pages
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Page 373 - The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe, Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind ! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy ! O, Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
Page 373 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : What if my leaves are falling like its own ! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit ! Be thou me, impetuous one ! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Page 171 - You loved me quite enough, it seems to-night. This must suffice me here. What would one have?
Page 319 - The convent's friends and gives them a long day, And Job, I must have him there past mistake, The man of Uz (and Us without the z, Painters who need his patience).
Page 276 - Which made my soul the worshipper and thrall Of earthly art, is vain ; how criminal Is that which all men seek unwillingly. Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed, What are they when the double death is nigh ? The one I know for sure, the other dread.
Page 259 - ... nests in the height of them, and that bright, smooth, sunny surface of glowing jasper, those spiral shafts and fairy traceries, so white, so faint, so crystalline, that their slight shapes are hardly traced in darkness on the pallor of the Eastern sky, that serene height of mountain alabaster, coloured like a morning cloud, and chased like a sea shell.
Page 250 - SI che m' ha fatto per più anni macro, Vinca la crudeltà, che fuor mi serra Del bello ovile, ov' io dormi' agnello 5 Nimico a' lupi, che gli danno guerra; Con altra voce omai, con altro vello Ritornerò poeta, ed in sul Fonte Del mio battesmo prenderò il cappello...
Page 212 - IF Dante mourns, there wheresoe'er he be, That such high fancies of a soul so proud Should be laid open to the vulgar crowd, (As, touching my Discourse, I'm told by thee,) This were my grievous pain ; and certainly My proper blame should not be disavowal ; Though hereof somewhat, I declare aloud, Were due to others, not alone to me.
Page 55 - In quel gran seggio, a che tu gli occhi tieni, Per la corona che già v'è su posta, Prima che tu a queste nozze ceni, Sederà l'alma, che fia giù augosta, Dell'alto Arrigo, eh' a drizzare Italia Verrà in prima che ella sia disposta. La cieca cupidigia, che v'ammalia, Simili fatti v...
Page 406 - Con quello sposo ch' ogni voto accetta, Che caritate a suo piacer conforma. Dal mondo, per seguirla, giovinetta Fuggi'mi, e nel suo abito mi chiusi, E promisi la via della sua setta. Uomini poi, a mal più ch' al bene usi, Fuor mi rapiron della dolce chiostra ; E Dio si sa qual poi mia vita fusi.

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