A General Sketch of European Literature in the Centuries of Romance, Volume 1K. Paul, Trench, Trubner & Company, Limited, 1918 - 411 pages |
Contents
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Common terms and phrases
adventures allegory Ariosto ballad Bible Boccaccio Boiardo Calderon called Cervantes chansons chansons de geste chapter Charlemagne Chaucer Christian Church classical comedy contemporary Court criticism Dante Dante's death died drama England English epic Erasmus Europe Fiammetta Florence Florentine France French German Greek Hebrew honour Humanism Humanists invented Italian Italy Juan King knight known ladies language later Latin learning letters literary literature lived Lope Lope de Vega Lorenzo Lorenzo de Medici lover lyric Machiavelli Medici medieval Milton modern moral never Orlando Furioso Petrarch plays Pleiad poem poet poetic poetry Pope Pope Leo X prince prose Provençal Pulci Queen Rabelais Reformation Renaissance Reuchlin romance Rome Ronsard satire scholar Shakespeare sixteenth century song sonnets sought Spain Spanish Spenser spirit stanzas story style tale Tasso taste Thomas thou tongue took translated treatise Troubadour verse Villon Virgil words writers written wrote
Popular passages
Page 384 - Thus with the year Seasons return ; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and everduring dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Page 331 - For God's sake let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings...
Page 348 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks : methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam ; purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means, and in their envious gabble...
Page 366 - 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 349 - Alas! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
Page 349 - Sometimes with secure delight The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade...
Page 347 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and seeks her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat.
Page 349 - Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit, or arms, while both contend To win her grace, whom all commend. There let Hymen oft appear In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry, Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.
Page 349 - Tempered to the oaten flute ; Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long ; And old Damoetas loved to hear our song. But, O the heavy change ! now thou art gone ! Now thou art gone, and never must return ! Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves "With wild thyme* and the gadding vine o'ergrown...
Page 157 - But where are the snows of yester-year ? White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies, With a voice like any mermaiden, — Bertha Broadfoot, Beatrice, Alice, And Ermengarde the lady of Maine, — And that good Joan whom Englishmen At Rouen doomed and burned her there, — Mother of God, where are they then ? . . . But where are the snows of yester-year...