A Survey of Complex Object Technologies for Digital Libraries

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1881 edition. Excerpt: ... years that I am blind. So, she is seven years older than my boy, Cristofano said; too old to be so coy. 9. And smiling, with a promise to return, He left them then, but heavy was his heart With sorrow that he knew himself must learn And teach Antonio too; for they must part. Since neither prayers nor all desires that yearn Can bring the past to life, nor any art, He watched an anxious night, to greet the morrow But less Antonio grieved; for all was strange, And every novel thing a fresh delight; The narrow house, the rows of books, the change By day, the welcome-warm return at night, The little laurelled plot, more sweet to range Than lonely gardens, bare to heart and sight, But most of all the tender love and care Of Dafne, made him find the new life fair. II. He loved to dream himself Hippolytus, And her white Artemis, the heavenly maid; Or, musing on Endymion, feigned that thus One night she stooped to kiss him in the shade; And he would sigh to pass her verdurous Tall laurel, thinking how in vain were prayed Apo1lo s prayers for love he never won. And in these dreams four circling years sped on. At last Antonio ailed; he knew not why, But hollower grew his glance, and pale his cheek, Heavy his step, and heavier still the sigh That often broke the words he meant to speak. He did not care to live, nor wished to die, Desired, yet knew not what he had to seek, And, though he felt no sorrow he could say, He tossed through wakeful nights and dreamed all day. Ah! what despair was then Cristofano s, To watch the son he lived for pine to death, And find nor cause nor healing for his woes! To watch the greatening eyes, the lagging breath, The changeful spirit never in repose! To know that life, once...