The Translator of Dante: The Life, Work and Friendships of Henry Francis Cary (1772-1844)

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M. Secker, 1925 - Broj stranica: 371
 

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Stranica 300 - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Stranica 299 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Stranica 321 - And a too close and servile imitation, which the same poet calls ' treading on the heels of an author,' is deservedly laughed at by Sir John Denham ; ' I conceive it,' says he, ' a vulgar error in translating poets, to affect being Jidus interpres. Let that care be with them who deal in matters of fact, or matters of faith ; but whosoever aims at it in poetry, as he attempts what is not required, so...
Stranica 41 - I rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, Blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen ; Read a play till eleven, or cock my lac'd hat ; Then step to my neighbour's, till dinner, to chat.
Stranica 187 - I had seen in my sleep. And the sonnet I made was this : — To every heart which the sweet pain doth move, And unto which these words may now be brought For true interpretation and kind thought, Be greeting in our Lord's name, which is Love. Of those long hours wherein the stars, above...
Stranica 312 - Come d'autunno si levan le foglie l'una appresso dell'altra, infin che il ramo 114 rende alla terra tutte le sue spoglie; similemente il mal seme d'Adamo : gittansi di quel lito ad una ad una, 117 per cenni, come augel per suo richiamo.
Stranica 138 - Row, Islington, — a cottage, for it is detached ; a white house, with six good rooms. The New River (rather elderly by this time) runs (if a moderate walking pace can be so termed) close to the foot of the house ; and behind is a spacious garden with vines (I assure you), pears, strawberries, parsnips, leeks, carrots, cabbages, to delight the heart of old Alcinous.
Stranica 250 - Farewell, dear friend — that smile, that harmless mirth No more shall gladden our domestic hearth ; That rising tear, with pain forbid to flow, Better than words, no more assuage our woe ; That hand outstretched, from small but well-earned store, Yield succour to the destitute no more.
Stranica 305 - Penelope with joy, Could overcome in me the zeal I had To explore the world, and search the ways of life, Man's evil and his virtue. Forth I sail'd Into the deep illimitable main, With but one bark, and the small faithful band That yet cleaved to me.
Stranica 321 - Poetry is of so subtile a spirit, that, in pouring out of one language into another, it will all evaporate; and, if a new spirit be not added in the transfusion, there will remain nothing but a caput mortuum" I confess this argument holds good against a literal translation; but who defends it?

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