Dante and the Divina Commedia

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C. Scribner's Sons, 1890 - 151 Seiten
 

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Seite 273 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice.
Seite 369 - Christ will come when a great multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues...
Seite 396 - Thou hast neither part nor lot in this matter : for thy heart is not right in the sight of God.
Seite 337 - It turned every consolation and every pleasure into its own nature. It resembled that noxious Sardinian soil of which the intense bitterness is said to have been perceptible even in its honey. His mind was, in the noble language of the Hebrew poet, "a land of darkness, as darkness itself, and where the light was as darkness.
Seite 369 - Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night ; And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away.
Seite 302 - ... he whom it had power to torture and strangle were greater than it. The face of one wholly in protest, and life-long unsurrendering battle, against the world. Affection all converted into indignation ; an implacable indignation ; slow, equable, silent, like that of a god ! The eye too, it looks out...
Seite 302 - Withal it is a silent pain too, a silent, scornful one : the lip is curled in a kind of godlike disdain of the thing that is eating out his heart, — as if it were withal a mean, insignificant thing, as if he whom it had power to torture and strangle were greater than it.
Seite 369 - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine : But this eternal blazon ' must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Seite 369 - Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never cc.mes That comes to all ; but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.

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