What Scene and Line O Speak Again Bright Angel for Thou Art as Glorious to This Night
„O, speak once again, bright affections! for grand art
As glorious to this night, existence o'er my head
Equally is a winged messenger of sky"
Source: Romeo and Juliet
Concluding update June 3, 2021.
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„Daughter of sky, fair art thou! the silence of thy confront is pleasant! Thou comest forth in loveliness. The stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O moon! They brighten their dark-brown sides. Who is like thee in heaven, light of the silent dark? The stars are ashamed in thy presence. They turn away their sparkling eyes. Whither dost thousand retire from thy course, when the darkness of thy countenance grows? Hast g thy hall, similar Ossian? Dwellest thou in the shadow of grief? Accept thy sisters fallen from heaven? Are they who rejoiced with thee, at night, no more? Yes! they accept fallen, off-white light! and thou dost oft retire to mourn. Just thou thyself shalt neglect, ane night; and leave thy blue path in sky. The stars will and then elevator their heads: they, who were ashamed in thy presence, will rejoice. Thousand art now clothed with thy effulgence. Look from thy gates in the sky. Outburst the deject, O wind! that the girl of night may look forth! that the shaggy mountains may brighten, and the bounding main roll its white waves in light."
— James Macpherson Scottish writer, poet, translator, and politician 1736 - 1796
"Dar-thula"
The Poems of Ossian
„Thou fine art not solitary, and thou dost not vest to thyself. Thou art ane of My voices, yard art ane of My arms. Speak and strike for Me."
— Romain Rolland French author 1866 - 1944
Jean-Christophe (1904 - 1912), Journey's Finish: The Burning Bush (1911)
Context: "1000 art non lone, and thou dost not belong to thyself. One thousand art i of My voices, one thousand art one of My arms. Speak and strike for Me. But if the arm be broken, or the voice exist weary, and so still I hold My footing: I fight with other voices, other arms than thine. Though thou fine art conquered, even so art g of the army which is never vanquished. Remember that and thou wilt fight even unto death."
"Lord, I take suffered much!"
"Thinkest thou that I do not endure as well? For ages death has hunted Me and pettiness has lain in look for Me. It is only past victory in the fight that I can make My way. The river of life is red with My blood."
"Fighting, e'er fighting?"
"Nosotros must e'er fight. God is a fighter, fifty-fifty He Himself. God is a conqueror. He is a devouring panthera leo. Pettiness hems Him in and He hurls information technology downward. And the rhythm of the fight is the supreme harmony. Such harmony is non for thy mortal ears. It is enough for thee to know that it exists. Exercise thy duty in peace and leave the rest to the Gods."
„O yard that rollest above, circular every bit the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O dominicus! thy everlasting calorie-free? G comest forth in thy awful beauty; the stars hibernate themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and stake, sinks in the western wave; but k thyself movest alone. Who can be a companion of thy grade? The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains themselves decay with years; the bounding main shrinks and grows again; the moon herself is lost in heaven: but thou art for ever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy class. When the world is dark with tempests, when thunder rolls and lightning flies, m lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the tempest. Merely to Ossian thou lookest in vain, for he beholds thy beams no more: whether thy yellow pilus flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. Simply thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season; thy years will take an stop. 1000 shalt sleep in thy clouds, devil-may-care of the voice of the morning. Exult then, O sunday, in the strength of thy youth!"
— James Macpherson Scottish author, poet, translator, and politician 1736 - 1796
"Carthon", pp. 163–164
The Poems of Ossian
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