Italian Influences

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C. Scribner's sons, 1901 - Italy - 433 pages
 

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Page 184 - So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair ; And a voice said in mastery while I strove, 'Guess now who holds thee ?' — 'Death !' I said. But there, The silver answer rang: 'Not Death, but Love.
Page 179 - And view the ground's most gentle dimplement, (As if God's finger touched but did not press In making England) such an up and down Of verdure, — nothing too much up or down, A ripple of land ; such little hills, the sky Can stoop to tenderly and the wheatfields climb...
Page 339 - Invisible : and from the land we went, As to a floating city — steering in, And gliding up her streets, as in a dream, So smoothly...
Page 139 - Space wondered less at the swift and fair creations of God when he grew weary of vacancy, than I at this spirit of an angel in the mortal paradise of a decaying body.
Page 182 - Through being a woman. And, for all the rest, Take thanks for justice. I would rather dance At fairs on tight-rope, till the babies dropped Their gingerbread for joy, — than shift the types For tolerable verse, intolerable To men who act and suffer. Better far, Pursue a frivolous trade by serious means, Than a sublime art frivolously.
Page 184 - I LIVED with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me.
Page 140 - B., without degrading me. I think you know Moore. Pray assure him that I have not the smallest influence over Lord Byron, in this particular, and if I had, I certainly should employ it to eradicate from his great mind the delusions of Christianity, which, in spite of his reason, seem perpetually to recur, and to lay in ambush for the hours of sickness and distress.
Page 136 - He lives in considerable splendour, but within his income which is now about £4000 a-year; £100 of which he devotes to purposes of charity. He has had mischievous passions, but these he seems to have subdued, and he is becoming what he should be, a virtuous man.
Page 184 - But ... so much to thee? Can I pour thy wine While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range. Then, love me, Love! look on me — breathe on me! As brighter ladies do not count it strange, For love, to give up acres and degree, I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee!
Page 135 - I dedicated what powers I may have had, flourishes like a cedar and covers England with its boughs. My motive was never the infirm desire of fame ; and if I should continue an author, I feel that I should desire it. This cup is justly given to...

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