Spanish LiteratureW. and R. Chambers, 1851 - 345 strani |
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afterwards Alphonso Alvaro de Luna ancient appears arms Arragon beautiful Boscan Brunesent Calderon Camoens Castile Castilian Castilian language Cervantes character chivalrous Christian chronicle classic comedies composed composition Count court death Don Quixote drama elegant endeavoured Europe father favour feeling Fernando genius Geoffrey glory Granada hast heart Heaven hero holy honour infant Italian Italy Juan Juan de Mena king king of Fez kingdom knight labours lady language Latin learned literary live Lope de Vega Lusiad lyric Madrid Mendoza merit monarch Moorish Moors moral native never noble Numantia o'er passion poem poet poetic Portugal Portuguese possessed prince prose Provençal redondillas reign religious romances satire scene sixteenth century songs sonnets soul Spain Spaniards Spanish language Spanish literature Spanish poetry spirit style sweet sword talent taste thee thou thought translation verses writer
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Stran 324 - He spoke, and deep a lengthened sigh he drew, A doleful sound, and vanished from the view : The frightened billows gave a rolling swell, And distant far prolonged the dismal yell ; Faint and more faint the howling echoes die, And the black cloud dispersing leaves the sky. High to the angel host, whose guardian care Had ever round us...
Stran 105 - THE hosts of Don Rodrigo were scattered in dismay, When lost was the eighth battle, nor heart nor hope had they ; He, when he saw that field was lost, and all his hope was flown, He turned him from his flying host, and took his way alone.
Stran 106 - Last night I was the King of Spain, — to-day no king am I; Last night fair castles held my train, — to-night where shall I lie? Last night a hundred pages did serve me on the knee, — To-night not one I call mine own: — not one pertains to me.
Stran 318 - Twas thou, O love, whose dreaded shafts control The hind's rude heart, and tear the hero's soul ; Thou ruthless power, with bloodshed never cloyed, 'Twas thou thy lovely votary destroyed. Thy thirst still burning for a deeper woe, In vain to thee the tears of beauty flow.
Stran 42 - Six lances' length on either side an open space is laid; They share the field between them, the sunshine and the shade. Their office is performed, and from the middle space The heralds are withdrawn, and leave them face to face.
Stran 320 - O that thy heart were, as thy looks declare, Of human mould, superfluous were my prayer ! Thou couldst not, then, a helpless damsel slay, Whose sole offence in fond affection lay, In faith to him who first his love confessed, Who first to love allured her virgin breast.
Stran 200 - What could we do, where should we go, How should we wander in night and woe, But for woman to lead us ! How could we love, if woman were not : Love, — the brightest part of our lot ; Love, — the only charm of living ; Love, — the only gift worth giving ? — Who would take charge of your house, — say who, — Kitchen, and dairy, and money-chest, — Who but the women, who guard them best, — Guard, and adorn them too ! Who like them has a constant smile, Full of peace, of meekness full,...
Stran 195 - See, in his orbit sure, Each takes his journey bright, Led by an unseen hand through the vast maze of night ! See how the pale moon rolls Her silver wheel ; and scattering beams afar On earth's benighted souls, See Wisdom's holy star ; Or, in his fiery course, the sanguine orb of War ; Or that benignant ray Which Love hath called its own, and made so fair ; Or that serene display Of power supernal there, Where Jupiter conducts his chariot through the air...
Stran 321 - O'er that dire banquet, where the sire's repast The son's torn limbs supplied? Yet you, ye vales, Ye distant forests, and ye flowery dales, When, pale and sinking to the dreadful fall, You heard her quivering lips on Pedro call; Your faithful echoes caught the parting sound, And "Pedro! Pedro!
Stran 195 - Midst all those fires above, In glories and delights which never wane nor move. Oh wondrous blessedness, Whose shadowy effluence hope o'er time can fling! Day that shall never cease,— No night there threatening, No winter there to chill joy's ever-during spring. Ye fields of changeless green, Covered with living streams and fadeless flowers, Thou paradise serene! Eternal, joyful hours My disembodied soul shall welcome in thy bowers.