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Document Max. Freq Min. Freq
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) 76 0 Browse Search
John Conington, Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid, Volume 2 38 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden) 30 0 Browse Search
Polybius, Histories 18 0 Browse Search
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) 12 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding) 6 0 Browse Search
Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome, books 1-10 (ed. Rev. Canon Roberts) 4 0 Browse Search
C. Suetonius Tranquillus, The Lives of the Caesars (ed. Alexander Thomson) 4 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington) 4 0 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier). You can also browse the collection for Latium (Italy) or search for Latium (Italy) in all documents.

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The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Personal Poems (search)
meant. He loved his books, the Art that hints A beauty veiled behind its own, The graver's line, the pencil's tints, The chisel's shape evoked from stone. He cherished, void of selfish ends, The social courtesies that bless And sweeten life, and loved his friends With most unworldly tenderness. But still his tired eyes rarely learned The glad relief by Nature brought; Her mountain ranges never turned His current of persistent thought. The sea rolled chorus to his speech Three-banked like Latium's tall trireme, With laboring oars; the grove and beach Were Forum and the Academe. The sensuous joy from all things fair His strenuous bent of soul repressed, And left from youth to silvered hair Few hours for pleasure, none for rest. For all his life was poor without, O Nature, make the last amends! Train all thy flowers his grave about, And make thy singing-birds his friends! Revive again, thou summer rain, The broken turf upon his bed! Breathe, summer wind, thy tenderest strain Of lo