Main Currents of Spanish Literature

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H. Holt, 1919 - 284 páginas
 

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Página 176 - Our lives are rivers, gliding free To that unfathomed, boundless sea, The silent grave ! Thither all earthly pomp and boast Roll, to be swallowed up and lost In one dark wave.
Página 180 - THE WANDERING KNIGHT'S SONG. [IN the Cancionero of Antwerp, 1555 : Mis arreos son las armas Mi descanso el pelear.] Mr ornaments are arms, My pastime is in war, My bed is cold upon the wold, My lamp yon star : My journeyings are long, My slumbers short and broken ; From hill to hill I wander still, Kissing thy token. I ride from land to land, I sail from sea to sea — Some day more kind I fate may find, Some night kiss tliee ! SERENADE. [FROM the Romancero General of 1604. Mientras duerme mi iiifia,...
Página 43 - Ye who love a nation's legends. Love the ballads of a people, That like voices from afar off Call to us to pause and listen. Speak in tones so plain and childlike, Scarcely can the ear distinguish Whether they are sung or spoken ; — Listen to this Indian Legend, To this Song of Hiawatha!
Página 189 - neath the curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came ; And lo ! creation widened in man's view.
Página 189 - Mysterious Night ! when our first Parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came; And, lo! Creation widened in man's view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O Sun? or who could find, Whilst fly and leaf and insect stood revealed, That to such countless...
Página 270 - LORD of the winds! I feel thee nigh, I know thy breath in the burning sky! And I wait, with a thrill in every vein, For the coming of the hurricane! And lo! on the wing of the heavy gales, Through the boundless arch of heaven he sails; Silent and slow, and terribly strong, The mighty shadow is borne along, Like the dark eternity to come...
Página 173 - A babbler is a laughing-stock; he's a fool who's always grinning But little women love so much, one falls in love with sinning. There are women who are very tall, and yet not worth the winning, And in the change of short for long repentance finds beginning. To praise the little women Love besought me in my musing; To tell...
Página 177 - Tourney and joust, that charmed the eye, And scarf, and gorgeous panoply, And nodding plume, What were they but a pageant scene ? What but the garlands, gay and green, That deck the tomb? Where are the high-born dames, and where Their gay attire, and jewelled hair, And odors sweet? Where are the gentle knights, that came To kneel, and breathe love's ardent flame, Low at their feet...
Página 21 - Then bearing where Bermuez still maintains unequal fight, Three hundred lances down they come, their pennons flickering white ; Down go three hundred Moors to earth, a man to every blow ; And when they wheel, three hundred more, as charging back they go. It was a sight to see the lances rise and fall that day ; The shivered shields and riven mail, to see how thick they lay; The pennons that went in snow-white come out a gory red; The horses running riderless, the riders lying dead ; While Moors...
Página 51 - He looked for the brave captains that led the hosts of Spain, But all were fled except the dead — and who could count the slain ? Where'er his eye could wander, all bloody was the plain...

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