Lowell, James Russell, 1819-1891 / 2008-06-10 00:00:00

EBOOK, AMONG MY BOOKS ***


E-text prepared by Ted Garvin, Thomas Berger, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team

AMONG MY BOOKS
Second Series
by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL



To R.W. EMERSON.
A love and honor which more than thirty years have deepened, though
priceless to him they enrich, are of little import to one capable of
inspiring them. Yet I cannot deny myself the pleasure of so far intruding
on your reserve as at least to make public acknowledgment of the debt I
can never repay.

CONTENTS.

DANTE
SPENSER
WORDSWORTH
MILTON
KEATS


DANTE.[1]
On the banks of a little river so shrunken by the suns of summer that it
seems fast passing into a tradition, but swollen by the autumnal rains
with an Italian suddenness of passion till the massy bridge shudders
under the impatient heap of waters behind it, stands a city which, in its
period of bloom not so large as Boston, may well rank next to Athens in
the history which teaches _come l' uom s' eterna_.
Originally only a convenient spot in the valley where the fairs of the
neighboring Etruscan city of Fiesole were held, it gradually grew from a
huddle of booths to a town, and then to a city, which absorbed its
ancestral neighbor and became a cradle for the arts, the letters, the
science, and the commerce[2] of modern Europe.
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