Italy: a poem. With historical and classical notes

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Page 475 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, the fair humanities of old religion, the power, the beauty, and the majesty that had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished : they live no longer in the faith of reason...
Page 463 - So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Bethpeor ; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.
Page 495 - Nothing then was to be heard but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men ; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices ; one lamenting his own fate...
Page 376 - Millions of spirits for his fault amerced Of heaven, and from eternal splendours flung For his revolt; yet faithful how they stood, Their glory withered : as when heaven's fire Hath scathed the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With singed top their stately growth though bare Stands on the blasted heath.
Page 378 - The earth is a point not only in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any.
Page 387 - Thou shalt go upon the lion and the adder ; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet.
Page 378 - For the world, I count it not an inn, but an hospital ; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on; for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round sometimes for my recreation.
Page 495 - ... but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men ; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices ; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family ; some wishing to die from the very fear of dying ; some lifting their hands to the gods ; but, the greater part imagining that the last and eternal night was come, which was to destroy the gods and the world together.
Page 378 - ... whilst I study to find how I am a microcosm or little world, I find myself something more than the great. There is surely a piece of divinity in us, something that was before the elements and owes no homage unto the sun.
Page 432 - At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, And stole upon the air...

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