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Canto I. When the last hope of trampled France had failed Like a brief dream of unremaining glory, From visions of despair I rose, and scaled The peak of an aerial promontory, Whose caverned base with the vexed surge was…
Dedication There is no danger to a man that knowsWhat life and death is: there’s not any lawExceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawfulThat he should stoop to any other law.—CHAPMAN. To Mary — — I So now my summer-task…
Nondum amabam, et amare amabam, quaerebam quid amarem, amans amare.—Confess. St. August.Earth, ocean, air, belovèd brotherhood!If our great Mother has imbued my soulWith aught of natural piety to feelYour love, and recompense the boon with mine;If dewy morn, and odorous…
To Harriet **** Whose is the love that, gleaming through the world, Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn? Whose is the warm and partial praise, Virtue’s most sweet reward? Beneath whose looks did my reviving soul Riper in…
Whose is the love that, gleaming through the world,Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn? Whose is the warm and partial praise, Virtue’s most sweet reward?Beneath whose looks did my reviving soulRiper in truth and virtuous daring grow? Whose…
You’ll love me yet!—and I can tarryYour love’s protracted growing:June reared that bunch of flowers you carryFrom seeds of April’s sowing. I plant a heartful now: some seedAt least is sure to strike,And yield—what you’ll not pluck indeed,Not love, but,…
There’s heaven above, and night by night I look right through its gorgeous roof;No suns and moons though e’er so bright Avail to stop me; splendour-proof I keep the broods of stars aloof:For I intend to get to God, For…
FLORENCE, 15 I could have painted pictures like that youth’sYe praise so. How my soul springs up! No barStayed me–ah, thought which saddens while it soothes!–Never did fate forbid me, star by star,To outburst on your night with all my…
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave!You need not clap your torches to my face.Zooks, what’s to blame? you think you see a monk!What, ’tis past midnight, and you go the rounds,And here you catch me at an alley’s…
Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work,Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willedArmies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk,Man,…