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Página 423 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Página 327 - Saintly in his professions, unscrupulous in his dealings, zealous for nothing, bold in speculation, a coward and a timeserver in action, a placable enemy and a lukewarm friend...
Página 55 - Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific.
Página 418 - The preparatory poem * is biographical, and conducts the history of the Author's mind to the point when he was emboldened to hope that his faculties were sufficiently matured for entering upon the arduous labour which he had proposed to himself ; and the two Works have the same kind of relation to each other, if he may so express himself, as the antechapel has to the body of a gothic church.
Página 74 - Go . . rather go, than make me say I love. Rhaicos. If happiness is immortality, (And whence enjoy it else the gods above ?) I am immortal too : my vow is heard . . Hark ! on the left . . Nay, turn not from me now, I claim my kiss.
Página 76 - Impatient Rhaicos ! Why thus intercept The answer I would give ? There is a bee Whom I have fed, a bee who knows my thoughts And executes my wishes : I will send That messenger. If ever thou art false, Drawn by another, own it not, but drive My bee away: then shall I know my fate, And — for thou must be wretched — weep at thine. But often as my heart persuades to lay Its cares on thine and throb itself to rest, Expect her with thee, whether it be morn Or eve, at any time when woods are safe.
Página 75 - Has promised this, and may do more. Thou hast not many moons to wait until The bees have done their best ; if then there come Nor wax nor honey, let the tree be hewn. " " Zeus hath bestow'd on thee a prudent mind...
Página 525 - The Inferno. A Literal Prose Translation, with the Text of the Original printed on the same page. By John A. Carlyle, MD 5*. — The Purgatorlo. A Literal Prose Translation, with the Text printed on the same page.
Página 112 - Some time afterward, it was reported to me by the city officers that they had ferreted out the paper and its editor ; that his office was an obscure hole, his only visible auxiliary a negro boy, and his supporters a few very insignificant persons of all colors,