al Works, 1889, Vol. II., pp. 1-186.) The original

and others: Festus and his wife Michal in the first scene, Aprile, an Italian poet, in the second, and Festus only in the remainder. Th

oth are far less important than the purely poetical. The leading motive is not unlike that of Pauline and of Sordello: it is handled, however, far more ably than in the former, and much more clearly than in the latter. Paracelsus is a portrait of the seeker after knowledge, one whose ambition transcends all earthly limits, and exhausts itself in the thirst of the imposs

in her tentative delineation, of that "piercing and overpowering tenderness which glorifies the poet of Pompilia." Festus, Michal's husband, the friend and adviser of Paracelsus, is a man of simple nature and thoughtful mind, cautious yet not cold, clear-sighted rather than far-seeing, yet not without enthusiasm; perhaps a little narrow and commonplace, as the prudent are apt to be. He, like Michal, has no influence on the external action of the poem. Aprile, the Italian poet whom Paracelsus encounters i

"[12] The proportions of the work are epical rather than dramatic; but indeed it is difficult to class, so exuberant is the vitality which fills and overflows all limits. What is not a drama, though in dialogue, nor yet an epic, except in length, can scarcely be considered, any more than its successors, and perhaps imitators, Festus, Balder, or A Life Drama, properly artistic in form. But it is distinguished from this prolific progeny not only by a finer and firmer imagination, a truer poetic richness, but by a moderation, a concreteness, a grip, which are certa

eagle why she

st and unex

power informs he

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s birds their

what time, wha

t unless God

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his good time,

d the bird. In

s forth in a kind of vast ecstasy, an

e heaves undern

changes like

e bursts up a

tone's heart, ou

es, spots bar

fine sand wher

. The wroth sea'

te as the bitt

olitary waste,

anos come up,

er with their

easure in their

ill; earth is

like a dancing

st to waken i

upon rough b

e-roots and the

triving with a

ight, the boughs a

ids impatien

orrs are busy

rows, ants ma

ly in merry fl

up, shivering

sleeps; white

strand is purpl

pets; savage

wood and plai

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yrics, themselves various in style, and full of r

e of the men

ult, and withered

nd that strange song of old spices wh

, sandal-bud

um, and a

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de mountain

where tired w

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nt sweetness

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TNO

1

le Preface,