Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli: New York ; Europe ; HomewardR. Bentley, 1852 |
Common terms and phrases
acquaintance admirable American amid Angelino Angelo beautiful Belgioioso Béranger brothers called calm Carlyle carriage character charming child dark dear delight English eyes father fear feel felt Florence flowers forecastle French friends garet genius George Sand give hand happy Hasty heard heart Heaven honour hope interest Italian Italy JOANNA BAILLIE knew lady lake leave letter live Lombardy look MADAME ARCONATI Madame Ossoli Margaret MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI marriage Mazzini Milan mind months morning mother mountains Mozier Naples nature never night noble once pain Paris passed person Peter Simple Petrarch Pope present received Rieti Roman Rome Rowardennan SAM SLICK seemed seen society soon soul speak spirit suffered sweet sympathy talk tender things thought Tribune true truth Tuscany villas walk winter wish woman women words write
Popular passages
Page 2 - For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse : could we make her as the man, Sweet Love were slain : his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; The man be more of woman, she of man; He gain in sweetness and in moral height, Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; Till at the last she set herself to man, Like perfect music unto...
Page 75 - Or mild concerns of ordinary life, A constant influence, a peculiar grace; But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a lover; and attired With sudden brightness, like a man inspired ; And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw...
Page 75 - I go to prove my soul! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive ! what time, what circuit first, I ask not: but unless God send his hail Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time!
Page 2 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
Page 1 - He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend. Eternity mourns that. 'Tis an ill cure For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them. Where sorrow's held intrusive and turned out, There wisdom will not enter, nor true power, Nor aught that dignifies humanity.
Page 97 - I was quite carried away with the rich flow of his discourse; and the hearty, noble earnestness of his personal being brought back the charm which once was upon his writing, before I wearied of it. I admired his Scotch, his way of singing his great, full sentences, so that each one was like the stanza of a narrative ballad.
Page 103 - He sings, rather than talks. He pours upon you a kind of satirical, heroical, critical poem, with regular cadences, and generally catching up, near the beginning, some singular epithet, which serves as a refrain when his song is full, or with which, as with a knitting needle, he catches up the stitches, if he has chanced, now and then, to let fall a row.