History of Spanish Literature, Volume 1

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Page 367 - s told, They pass away. Our lives are rivers, gliding free To that unfathomed, boundless sea, The silent grave I Thither all earthly pomp and boast Roll, to be swallowed up and lost In one dark wave. Thither the mighty torrents stray, Thither the brook pursues its way, And tinkling rill. There all are equal ; side by side The poor man and the son of pride Lie calm and still.
Page 18 - Their shields before their breasts, forth at once they go, Their lances in the rest, levelled fair and low ; Their banners and their crests waving in a row, Their heads all stooping down toward the saddle bow. The Cid was in the midst, his shout was heard afar, " I am Ruy Diaz, the champion of Bivar ; Strike amongst them, gentlemen, for sweet mercy's sake !" There, where Bermudez fought, amidst the foe they brake, Three hundred bannered knights, it was a gallant show.
Page 131 - James's holy shrine, Thy knighthood first was won ; When Ferdinand, my royal sire, Confessed thee for a son. He gave thee then thy knightly arms, My mother gave thy steed ; Thy spurs were buckled by these hands, That thou no grace might'st need.
Page 48 - doth signify a cruel lord, who by force, or by craft, or by treachery, hath obtained power over any realm or country ; and such men be of such nature, that, when once they have grown strong in the land, they love rather to work their own profit, though it be...
Page 82 - The first seven stanzas of the Spanish poem constitute a prologue, in which Death issues his summons partly in his own person, and partly in that of a preaching friar, ending thus : — Come to the Dance of Death, all ye whose fate By birth is mortal, be ye great or small ; And willing come, nor loitering, nor late, Else force shall bring you struggling to my thrall : For since yon friar hath uttered loud his call To penitence and godliness sincere, He that delays must hope no wailing here ; For...
Page 18 - When they wheeled and turned, as many more lay slain, You might see them raise their lances and level them again. There you might see the breastplates, how they were cleft in twain, And many a Moorish shield lie shattered on the plain. The pennons that were white marked with a crimson stain, The horses running wild whose riders had been slain.
Page 194 - Indeed, wherever we go under their leading, whether to the court of Tamerlane, or to that of Saint Ferdinand, we find the heroic elements of the national genius gathered around us ; and thus, in this vast, rich mass of chronicles, containing such a body of antiquities, traditions, and fables as has been offered to no other people, we are constantly discovering, not only the materials from which were drawn a multitude of the old Spanish ballads, plays, and romances, but a mine which has been unceasingly...
Page 411 - But it was all done in secrecy and in darkness. From the moment when the Inquisition laid its grasp on the object of its suspicions to that of his execution, no voice was heard to issue from its cells. The very witnesses it summoned were punished with death...
Page 431 - ... which the press and those who wrote for it were alike reduced. From the abject titlepages and dedications of the authors themselves, through the crowd of certificates collected from their friends to establish the orthodoxy of works that were often as little connected with religion as fairy tales, down to the colophon, supplicating pardon for any unconscious neglect of the authority of the church or any too free use of classical mythology, we are continually oppressed with painful proofs, not...
Page 433 - ... sustained, indeed, for yet another century the forms of a miserable political existence in their government; but the earnest faith, the loyalty, the dignity of the Spanish people were gone ; and little remained in their place, but a weak subserviency to the unworthy masters of the state, and a low, timid bigotry in whatever related to religion. The old enthusiasm, rarely directed by wisdom from the first, and often misdirected...

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