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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Oldport days, with ten heliotype illustrations from views taken in Newport, R. I., expressly for this work. 50 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations 42 0 Browse Search
Mary Thacher Higginson, Thomas Wentworth Higginson: the story of his life 24 0 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 20 0 Browse Search
Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing) 16 0 Browse Search
James Russell Lowell, Among my books 8 0 Browse Search
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2 6 0 Browse Search
James Parton, Horace Greeley, T. W. Higginson, J. S. C. Abbott, E. M. Hoppin, William Winter, Theodore Tilton, Fanny Fern, Grace Greenwood, Mrs. E. C. Stanton, Women of the age; being natives of the lives and deeds of the most prominent women of the present gentlemen 4 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Atlantic Essays 4 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Cheerful Yesterdays 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations. You can also browse the collection for Petrarch or search for Petrarch in all documents.

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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (123). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (123). Ia vidi in terra anglici costume. Petrarch. I once beheld on earth celestial graces And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known, Whose memory yields nor joy nor grief alone, But all things else in clouds and dreams effaces. I saw how tears had left their weary traces Within those eyes that once the sun outshone; I heard those lips, in low and plaintive moan, Breathe words to stir the mountains from their places. Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truthPetrarch. I once beheld on earth celestial graces And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known, Whose memory yields nor joy nor grief alone, But all things else in clouds and dreams effaces. I saw how tears had left their weary traces Within those eyes that once the sun outshone; I heard those lips, in low and plaintive moan, Breathe words to stir the mountains from their places. Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth Made, in their mourning, strains more high and dear Than ever wove sweet sounds for mortal ear; And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth The very leaves upon the bough to soothe, Such sweetness filled the blissful atmosphere.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (128). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (128). O passi sparsi; O pensier vaghi e pronti. Petrarch. O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams! O changeless memory! O fierce desire! O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire; O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams; O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems The sole reward that glory's deeds require; O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire, That all my days from slothful rest redeems; O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well His whiPetrarch. O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams! O changeless memory! O fierce desire! O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire; O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams; O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems The sole reward that glory's deeds require; O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire, That all my days from slothful rest redeems; O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move At his least will; nor can it find relief. O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love! Linger, and see my passion and my grief.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (134). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (134). Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina. Petrarch. When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh With his own touch, and leads a minstrelsy Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,--He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, And to my thoughts brings transformation high, So that I say, “My time has come to die, If fate so blest a death for me design.” But to my soul thus steeped in joy the sound Brings such Petrarch. When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh With his own touch, and leads a minstrelsy Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,--He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, And to my thoughts brings transformation high, So that I say, “My time has come to die, If fate so blest a death for me design.” But to my soul thus steeped in joy the sound Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven, It holds my spirit back to earth as well. And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound The thread of life which unto me was given By this sole Siren who with us dot
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (223). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (223). Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama. Petrarch. Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy? Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy Whom all the world doth as my lady name! How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame, How truth is joined with graceful dignity, There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim; There learn that speech beyond all poet's skill, And gracious silence, and tPetrarch. Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy? Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy Whom all the world doth as my lady name! How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame, How truth is joined with graceful dignity, There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim; There learn that speech beyond all poet's skill, And gracious silence, and those holy ways Unutterable, untold by human heart. But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill, This none can learn! because its lovely rays Are given by God's pure grace, and not by art.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (251). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (251). Gli occhi di cha io parlai. Petrarch. Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose, The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile Could my own soul from its own self beguile, And in a separate world of dreams enclose; The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows, And the soft lightning of the angelic smile That changed this earth to some celestial isle,-- Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows. And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn, Petrarch. Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose, The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile Could my own soul from its own self beguile, And in a separate world of dreams enclose; The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows, And the soft lightning of the angelic smile That changed this earth to some celestial isle,-- Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows. And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn, Left dark without the light I loved in vain, Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn; Dead is the source of all my amorous strain, Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn, And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (253). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (253). Soleasi nel mio cor. Petrarch. She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, A noble lady in a humble home; And now her time for heavenly bliss has come, 'Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine. The soul that all its blessings must resign, And love whose light no more on earth finds room Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom, Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine; They weep within my heart; no ears they find Save mine alone, and I am crushed witPetrarch. She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, A noble lady in a humble home; And now her time for heavenly bliss has come, 'Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine. The soul that all its blessings must resign, And love whose light no more on earth finds room Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom, Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine; They weep within my heart; no ears they find Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care, And nought remains to me save mournful breath. Assuredly but dust and shade we are, Assuredly desire is mad and blind, Assuredly its hope but ends in death.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (261). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (261). Levommi il mio pensiero. Petrarch. Dreams bore my fancy to that region where She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. She took my hand; she said, “Within this sphere, If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: I filled thy life with war's wild agony; Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. My bliss no human thought can understand; I wait for thee alone, and thPetrarch. Dreams bore my fancy to that region where She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. She took my hand; she said, “Within this sphere, If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: I filled thy life with war's wild agony; Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. My bliss no human thought can understand; I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil Of beauty thou dost love shall yet retain. “Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand Ere those delicious tones could quite avail To bid my mortal soul in heaven r
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (302). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (302). Gli ángeli eletti. Petrarch. the holy angels and the spirits blest, Celestial bands, upon that day serene When first my love went by in heavenly sheen, Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest. “What light is here, in what new beauty drest?” They said among themselves “for none has seen Within this age arrive so fair a mien From changing earth unto immortal rest.” And she, contented with her new-found bliss, Ranks with the perfect in that upper spherePetrarch. the holy angels and the spirits blest, Celestial bands, upon that day serene When first my love went by in heavenly sheen, Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest. “What light is here, in what new beauty drest?” They said among themselves “for none has seen Within this age arrive so fair a mien From changing earth unto immortal rest.” And she, contented with her new-found bliss, Ranks with the perfect in that upper sphere, Yet ever and anon looks back on this To watch for me, as if for me she stayed. So strive my thoughts, lest that high heaven I miss; I hear her call, and must
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (309). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (309). Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio. Petrarch. Oft by my faithful mirror I am told, And by my mind outworn and altered brow, My earthly powers impaired and weakened now-- “Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!” Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold, And Time to his commandment bids us bow. Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow In life's long dream no more my sense to fold. And while I think, our swift existence flies, And none can live Petrarch. Oft by my faithful mirror I am told, And by my mind outworn and altered brow, My earthly powers impaired and weakened now-- “Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!” Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold, And Time to his commandment bids us bow. Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow In life's long dream no more my sense to fold. And while I think, our swift existence flies, And none can live again earth's brief career,-- Then in my deepest heart the voice replies Of one who now has left this mortal sphere, But walked alone through earthly destinies, And of all women is to fame mo
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Sonnet from Petrarch (314). (search)
Sonnet from Petrarch (314). Dolci durezze e placide repulse. Petrarch. Gentle severity, repulses mild, Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing; Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled; A tender voice, whose accents undefiled Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring; The bloom of virtue; purity's sweet spring To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild; Divinest eyes to make a lover's bliss, Whether to bridle in the wayward mind Lest its Petrarch. Gentle severity, repulses mild, Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing; Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled; A tender voice, whose accents undefiled Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring; The bloom of virtue; purity's sweet spring To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild; Divinest eyes to make a lover's bliss, Whether to bridle in the wayward mind Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss, Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind,-- This sweet completeness of thy life it is Which saved my soul; no other peace I find.
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