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Henry Francis Cary
Henry Francis Cary was an English author and translator best known for his influential translation of Dante's "Divine Comedy," published in 1814. His translation, notable for its use of blank verse, made Dante's work accessible to English-speaking audiences and received widespread acclaim, particularly after a favorable review by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Cary's contributions to literature also include his roles as a literary critic and a clergyman, reflecting his deep engagement with both literary and religious spheres.
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CANTO XXIX SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness. Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the...
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CANTO XVIII THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds. Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell. The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks,...
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CANTO IX THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeksImprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn,And inwardly restrain'd it. He, as oneWho listens, stood attentive: for his eyeNot far could lead him through the sable air,And the thick-gath'ring cloud. "It yet behoovesWe win this fight"—thus he began—"if not—Such aid to us...
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CANTO V FROM the first circle I descended thusDown to the second, which, a lesser spaceEmbracing, so much more of grief containsProvoking bitter moans. There, Minos standsGrinning with ghastly feature: he, of allWho enter, strict examining the crimes, Gives sentence, and dismisses them beneath,According as he foldeth him around:For when before him comes th' ill fated soul,It all confesses; and...
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CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow....
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CANTO XIII ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,We enter'd on a forest, where no trackOf steps had worn a way. Not verdant thereThe foliage, but of dusky hue; not lightThe boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'dAnd matted thick: fruits there were none, but thornsInstead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,Less intricate the brakes, wherein abideThose animals, that...
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CANTO VII "AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'dPlutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fearHarm thee, for power in him, be sure, is noneTo hinder down this rock thy safe descent."Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!" he cried, "Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyselfPrey,...
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CANTO V Now had I left those spirits, and pursuedThe steps of my Conductor, when beheldPointing the finger at me one exclaim'd:"See how it seems as if the light not shoneFrom the left hand of him beneath, and he,As living, seems to be led on." Mine eyesI at that sound reverting, saw them gazeThrough wonder first at me, and then at meAnd the light broken underneath, by turns."Why are...
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LIVES OF ENGLISH POETS. * * * * * SAMUEL JOHNSON. There is, perhaps, no one among our English writers, who for so great a part of his life has been an object of curiosity to his contemporaries as Johnson. Almost every thing he said or did was thought worthy of being recorded by some one or other of his associates; and the public were for a time willing to listen to all they had to say of him. A mass of...
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CANTO XXVI While singly thus along the rim we walk'd,Oft the good master warn'd me: "Look thou well.Avail it that I caution thee." The sunNow all the western clime irradiate chang'dFrom azure tinct to white; and, as I pass'd,My passing shadow made the umber'd flameBurn ruddier. At so strange a sight I mark'dThat many a spirit marvel'd on his way. This bred...
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