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Arthur Aucassin ballads beauty began Book born bright called century champion Chapter cried dead dear death early earth epic Europe eyes Fables face fair fall father fell fight France French gave give Gunther hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hold holy hundred Italy king knights lady land leave legend lines literature lives look lord lyric mediæval Merlin Middle Ages Moors morn needs never Nicolette noble o'er once passing period poems poetry poets reading rest Roland romances rose Round seemed seen side Siegfried song sorrow soul Spain spirit stand Stanza stood stories strong sweet sword Table tell thee thine thing thirteenth centuries thou thought took true turned twelfth unto wife young
Page 25 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yester-year?
Page 106 - tis then her power attains its proof, Making his heart strong for his soul's behoof With the full strength of meek humility. Also this virtue owns she, by God's will: Who speaks with her can never come to ill. Love saith concerning her: "How chanceth it That flesh, which is of dust, should be thus pure?" Then, gazing always, he makes oath: "Forsure, This is a creature of God till now unknown.
Page 106 - When mine eyes had wept for some while, until they were so weary with weeping that I could no longer through them give ease to my sorrow, I bethought me that a few mournful words might stand me instead of tears. And therefore I proposed to make a poem, that weeping I might speak therein of her for whom so much sorrow had destroyed my spirit ; and I then began "The eyes that weep.
Page 106 - LADIES that have intelligence in love, Of mine own lady I would speak with you \ Not that I hope to count her praises through, But telling what I may, to ease my mind.
Page 113 - By one so deep in love, then he, who ne'er From me shall separate, at once my lips All trembling kiss'd. The book and writer both Were love's purveyors. In its leaves that day We read no more.
Page 108 - It sees a lady round whom splendors move In homage ; till, by the great light thereof Abashed, the pilgrim spirit stands at gaze. It sees her such, that when it tells me this Which it hath seen, I understand it not, It hath a speech so subtile and so fine. And yet I know its voice within my thought Often remembereth me of Beatrice : So that I understand it, ladies mine.
Page 108 - After writing this sonnet, it was given unto me to behold a very wonderful vision; wherein I saw things which determined me that I would say nothing further of this most blessed one, until such time as I could discourse more worthily concerning her. And to this end I labour all I can; as she well knoweth.
Page 55 - For neither Spain nor Araby could another charger bring So good as he, and certes, the best befits my King. But that you may behold him, and know him to the core, I'll make him go as he was wont when his nostrils smelt the Moor."— III.
Page 108 - BEYOND the sphere which spreads to widest space Now soars the sigh that my heart sends above ; A new perception born of grieving Love Guideth it upward the untrodden ways. When it hath reached...