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Saturday, November 22, 2003
And, whether wake or dreaming, this I know
How dream-wise human glories come and go. —Act. III. Scene 2. "Life is a Dream" Pedro Calder?n de la Barca No greater grief than to remember days Of joy when misery is at hand. —Inferno. Canto v. Line 121. "The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri IN the midway 1 of this our mortal life, I found me in a gloomy wood, astray Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell, It were no easy task, how savage wild That forest, how robust and rough its growth, Which to remember only, my dismay Renews, in bitterness not far from death. —Inferno. Canto I. Lines 1-7. "The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri 16. A Dream Pang I HAD withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, But did not enter, though the wish was strong: 5 You shook your pensive head as who should say, ‘I dare not—too far in his footsteps stray— He must seek me would he undo the wrong. Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all Behind low boughs the trees let down outside; 10 And the sweet pang it cost me not to call And tell you that I saw does still abide. But ’tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof, For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof. --16. A Dream Pang. "A Boy's Will" Robert Frost Thou didst not know, who tottered, wandering on high, That fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind, With those great careless wings, Nor yet did I. 25 And there were other things: It seemed God let thee flutter from his gentle clasp: Then fearful he had let thee win Too far beyond him to be gathered in, Snatched thee, o’er eager, with ungentle grasp. 30 --31. My Butterfly. "A Boy's Will" Robert Frost Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason 20 To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season? --32. Reluctance. "A Boy's Will" Robert Frost How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more Beautiful than Beauty’s self. —Hyperion Bk 1, l, 35. John Keats (Reference: September 16 entry, for similar quotes from other poems/plays)
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