The Lusiad: Or, The Discovery of India. An Epic Poem

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G. Bell and sons, 1877 - Explorers - 358 pages

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Page 21 - unnumber'd gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies : The conscious
Page 209 - testimony of Addison. Our poet is justifiable in his censures, for he only follows the severe reflections of the greatest of the Italian poets. It were easy to give fifty instances; two or three, however, shall suffice. Dante, in his sixth canto, del Purg.— Ahi, serva Italia, di dolore ostello, Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta, Non donna di provincie,
Page 21 - A» when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene ; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And
Page 41 - Thus 3 the hoarse tenants of the sylvan lake, A Lycian race of old, to flight betake, 1 The ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their meat in the
Page 266 - Ariosto has also adopted this simile in the eighth book of his Orlando Furioso :— " Qual d'acqua chiara il tremolante lume Dal Sol per percossa, o da' notturni rai. Per gli ampli tetti va con lungo salto A destra, ed a sinistra, e basso, ed alto." "So from a water clear, the trembling light Of
Page 226 - a monster slain by Bellerophon. " First, dire Chimera's conquest was enjoin'd, A mingled monster of no mortal kind ; Behind, a dragon's fiery tail was spread, A goat's rough body bore a lion's head ; Her pitchy nostrils flaky flames expire, Her gaping throat emits infernal fire.
Page 209 - serva Italia, di dolore ostello, Nave senza nocchiero in gran tempesta, Non donna di provincie, bordello. '• Ah, slavish Italy, the inn of dolour, a ship without a pilot in a horrid tempest:—not the mistress of provinces, but a brothel!
Page 227 - Placed in their ranks their godlike grandsires stood. Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe on high ; And Italus, that led the colony : And ancient Janus with his double face, And bunch of keys, the porter of the place. There stood Sabinus, planter of the vines, On a short pruning-hook his head reclines ; And studiously surveys his gen'rous wines.
Page 164 - you alone have dar'd to plough my main, And, with the human voice, disturb my lonesome reign." He spoke, and deep a lengthen'd sigh he drew, A doleful sound, and vanish'd from the view : The frighten'd billows gave a rolling swell, And, distant far, prolong'd the dismal yell, Faint, and
Page 164 - With wide-stretch'd piles I guard the pathless strand, And Afric's southern mound, unmov'd, I stand : Nor Roman prow, nor daring Tyrian oar Ere dash'd the white wave foaming to my shore ; Nor Greece, nor Carthage ever spread the sail On these my seas, to catch the trading gale.

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