Poet Lore, Volume 18Writer's Center, 1907 |
From inside the book
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Page 2
... give something of the poetic effect of the Italian , we have also sought to depart little , if any , from the fidelity of a prose translation , and we have been enabled to follow with some intimacy ( thanks to Mr. Isola's familiar ...
... give something of the poetic effect of the Italian , we have also sought to depart little , if any , from the fidelity of a prose translation , and we have been enabled to follow with some intimacy ( thanks to Mr. Isola's familiar ...
Page 3
... give light , one at each side of the large door , and in each of the gratings a bunch of red buckwheat is stuck to ward off evil . SPLENDORE , FAVETTA , ORNELLA , the three young sisters , are kneeling each in front of one of the three ...
... give light , one at each side of the large door , and in each of the gratings a bunch of red buckwheat is stuck to ward off evil . SPLENDORE , FAVETTA , ORNELLA , the three young sisters , are kneeling each in front of one of the three ...
Page 13
... and resin . Leaks full seven split and stove her . Then I'll give you pieces seven . On your shoulder bear me over . Oh , no ! Help of mine you must lack . TEODULA . ORNELLA . TEODULA . The wild water fills GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO 13.
... and resin . Leaks full seven split and stove her . Then I'll give you pieces seven . On your shoulder bear me over . Oh , no ! Help of mine you must lack . TEODULA . ORNELLA . TEODULA . The wild water fills GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO 13.
Page 14
... give you this silver piece bright . Too little ! Your eight bits , indeed , Would not keep my ribbons new . Tuck up your skirt . Plunge in bare - kneed . A ducat of gold I'll give to you . [ The first woman , TEODULA , gives ORNELLA a ...
... give you this silver piece bright . Too little ! Your eight bits , indeed , Would not keep my ribbons new . Tuck up your skirt . Plunge in bare - kneed . A ducat of gold I'll give to you . [ The first woman , TEODULA , gives ORNELLA a ...
Page 20
... gives us , The eve of Santo Giovanni ? -What disgrace is this you give us , what sorrow This that you give us , Beheaded one ! - Just today of all days . Candia , have you lost your reason ? O Candia , have you lost your senses ...
... gives us , The eve of Santo Giovanni ? -What disgrace is this you give us , what sorrow This that you give us , Beheaded one ! - Just today of all days . Candia , have you lost your reason ? O Candia , have you lost your senses ...
Contents
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Common terms and phrases
ALIGI Anna artistic Asolo beauty called Camoens CANDIA Castilian Cosma D'Annunzio dance daughter dead dear death Don Fausto door dramatic dream earth eyes father FAVETTA feel flowers give hand head hear heard heart Hellriegel Herod Herodias human Iago Inna Alexandrovna Iokanaan Italian kiss laughing Lazaro Leonessa literature living look Lord Luntz Lusiads lyric Manager Marusia Meralda Michael MILA mother mountain nature never night ocarina old Huhn ORNELLA Othello passion pastoral Peer Peer Gynt Petia Pippa play poems poet poetic poetry Pollock Portugal Portuguese Princess Romolo Salome scene Sergius Nikolaievitch shepherd silent singing sisters Soldier song sonnets soul speak spirit stars Stephen sweet Tagliazoni tell Tetrarch thee Theocritus things thou thought Tigellinus touch Treitch Troubadour unto Valentine Verchovtzeff verse Vienda voice Wende wine woman words write Young Syrian Zhitoff
Popular passages
Page 486 - Herdman's art belongs! What recks it them? What need they? They are sped; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel Pipes of wretched straw, The hungry Sheep look up, and are not fed, But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread: Besides what the grim Wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door, Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Page 103 - It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.
Page 274 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Page 288 - Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
Page 252 - A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine; A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller betwixt life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength and skill : A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of angelic light.
Page 479 - A creed is a rod, And a crown is of night ; But this thing is God, To be man with thy might, To grow straight in the strength of thy spirit, and live out thy life as the light.
Page 484 - If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame. They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
Page 478 - I will go back to the great sweet mother, Mother and lover of men, the sea. I will go down to her, I and none other, Close with her, kiss her and mix her with me...
Page 409 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Page 285 - Lifting himself out of the lowly dust On golden plumes up to the purest skie, Above the reach of loathly sinfull lust, Whose base affect*, through cowardly distrust Of his weake wings, dare not to heaven fly, But like a moldwarpe** in the earth doth ly.