Paolo & Francesca: A Tragedy in Four Acts

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John Lane, 1899 - 120 oldal

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112. oldal - ... enthrals the earth, And all the waves of the world faint to the moon. Even by such attraction we two rush Together through the everlasting years. Us, then, whose only pain can be to part, How wilt Thou punish ? For what ecstasy Together to be blown about the globe ! What rapture in perpetual fire to burn Together ! — where we are is endless fire. There centuries shall in a moment pass, And all the cycles in one hour elapse ! Still, still together, even when faints Thy sun, And past our souls...
61. oldal - I cannot go; thrilling from Rimini, A tender voice makes all the trumpets mute. I cannot go from her: may not return. O God! what is Thy will upon me? Ah! One path there is, a straight path to the dark. There, in the ground, I can betray no more, And there for ever am I pure and cold. The means! No dagger blow, nor violence shown Upon my body to distress her eyes. Under some potion gently will I die; And they that find me dead shall lay me down Beautiful as a sleeper at her feet. CURTAIN ACT III...
123. oldal - A thing of exquisite poetic form, yet tingling from first to last with intense dramatic life. Mr. Phillips has achieved the impossible. Sardou could not have ordered the action more skilfully, Tennyson could not have clothed the passion in words of purer loveliness.
118. oldal - Be still! A second wedding here begins, And I would have all reverent and seemly: For they were nobly born, and deep in love.
109. oldal - PAO. Remember how when first we met we stood Stung with immortal recollections. O face immured beside a fairy sea, That leaned down at dead midnight to be kissed ! O beauty folded up in forests old ! Thou wast the lovely quest of Arthur's knights FRANC. Thy armour glimmered in a gloom of green.
110. oldal - And in that kiss our souls Together flashed, and now they are one flame, Which nothing can put out, nothing divide.
124. oldal - Much might confidently have been expected from the author of ' The Wife ' and of ' Marpessa," but I must frankly own that, magnificent as was the promise of these poems, I was not prepared for such an achievement as the present work. . . . It unquestionably places Mr. Phillips in the first rank of modern dramatists and of modem poetry. It does more, it claims his kinship with the aristocrats of his art : with Sophocles and with Dante."— Mr.
24. oldal - O those children, mine ! Mine, doubly mine : and yet I cannot touch them, I cannot see them, hear them — Does great God Expect I shall clasp air and kiss the wind For ever?
23. oldal - And for that reason tremble at her more ! Old friend, remember that we two are passed Into the grey of life : but O, beware This child scarce yet awake upon the world ! Dread her first ecstasy, if one should come That should appear to her half-opened eyes Wonderful as a prince from fairyland Or venturing through forests toward her face — No — do not stride about the room — your limp Is evident the more — come, sit by me As you were wont to sit. Youth goes toward youth.

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