Aldighieri, poeta Fiorentino.
Balbo, Vita di Dante, Firenze, 1853, p. 117. Professor de Vericour
Life and Times of Dante, London, 1858, p. 80. thinks it necessary to apologize for this lapse oall permitted to return before long (but after Dante's term of office was over), and came accordingis, who was preparing an expedition to Italy.
Dante was meanwhile sent on an embassy to Rome (Septerplexing.
For example: Count Balbo's Life of Dante was published originally at Turin, in 1839.
Is proposed expedition into Italy, the hopes of Dante were raised to the highest pitch.
Henry enterBut Boccaccio also assigns 1313 as the date of Dante's withdrawal to that city, and his first prote to return on conditions of fine and penance.
Dante rejected the offer (by accepting which his gui shall not derogate from the fame and honor of Dante, that I will enter on with no lagging steps.
der this date (1315) a 4th condemnatio against Dante is mentioned facta in anno 1316 de mense Octob[10 more...]
exultation must he have recalled the verses of Dante!—
Chi dietro a jura, e chi ad aforismi Senhe whole chasm between himself and Chaucer, as Dante between himself and Virgil.
He called Chaucerr day with a friend (the late Mr. Keats) about Dante, he observed that whenever so great a poet tolWhen the cardinal and theological virtues tell Dante,
Noi siam qui ninfe e in ciel siamo stellectation) by the great clock of the firmament.
Dante, the miser of words, who goes by the same time the way he reproduces five pregnant verses of Dante:
Seggendo in piume In fama non si vien, neater foam. Longfellow.
It shows how little Dante was read during the last century that none of .
If we compare it with the mystical scene in Dante,
Purgatorio, XXIX., XXX. of which it is a rhe very day when he had thus beatified her. As Dante was drawn upward from heaven to heaven by the earisome turmoil.
This song recalls that in Dante's Purgatorio (Xix.
19-24), in which the Itali
e characteristic poems there is always a kernel of firm conclusion from far-reaching principles that stimulates thought and challenges meditation.
Groping in the dark passages of life, we come upon some axiom of his, as it were a wall that gives us our bearings and enables us to find an outlet.
Compared with Goethe we feel that he lacks that serene impartiality of mind which results from breadth of culture; nay, he seems narrow, insular, almost provincial.
He reminds us of those saints of Dante who gather brightness by revolving on their own axis.
But through this very limitation of range he gains perhaps in intensity and the impressiveness which results from eagerness of personal conviction.
If we read Wordsworth through, as I have just done, we find ourselves changing our mind about him at every other page, so uneven is he. If we read our favorite poems or passages only, he will seem uniformly great.
And even as regards The Excursion we should remember how few long poems will
amous poets was as seriously characteristic as Dante's ranking himself sesto tra cotanto senno. Mr.sult.
I have no manner of doubt that he, like Dante, believed himself divinely inspired with what e in some of its aspects more tragical, except Dante's. In both these great poets, more than in anyre full of autobiographical confidences.
Like Dante, Milton was forced to become a party by himselornful of parallel passages,
A passage from Dante (Inferno, XI. 96-105), with its reference to Aght art, which seems to puzzle him. A study of Dante and of his earlier commentators would also havoccur precisely as in the Italian poets.
Ma sapienza e amore e virtute. So Donne:g of the haughty and defiant selfasser-tion of Dante and Michel Angelo.
In no other English authorthat of transforming everything into himself.
Dante is individual rather than self-conscious, and ighty would have become more heterodox.
Since Dante, no one had stood on these visiting terms with
s longed for fame, but longed above all to deserve it. To his friend Taylor he writes, There is but one way for me. The road lies through study, application, and thought.
Thrilling with the electric touch of sacred leaves, he saw in vision, like Dante, that small procession of the elder poets to which only elect centuries can add another laurelled head.
Might he, too, deserve from posterity the love and reverence which he paid to those antique glories?
It was no unworthy ambition, but every, Mr. Severn, an artist.
After embarking, he wrote to his friend, Mr. Brown.
We give a part of this letter, which is so deeply tragic that the sentences we take almost seem to break away from the rest with a cry of anguish, like the branches of Dante's lamentable wood.
I wish to write on subjects that will not agitate me much.
There is one I must mention and have done with it. Even if my body would recover of itself, this would prevent it. The very thing which I want to live most for will