Alma Sdegnosa
Not that dull spleen which serves i' the world for scorn, Is hers I watch from far off, worshipping As in remote Chaldaea the ancient king Adored the star that heralded the morn. Her proud content she bears as a flag is borne Tincted the hue royal; or as a wing It lifts her soaring, near the daylight spring, Whence, if she lift, our days must pass forlorn. The pure deriving of her spirit-state Is so remote from men and their believing, They shrink when she is cold, and estimate That hardness which is but a God's dismay: As when the Heaven-sent sprite thro' Hell sped cleaving, Only the gross air checkt him on his way.
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"Not that dull spleen which serves i' the world for scorn,..."
This evocative piece by Maurice Henry Hewlett, titled "Alma Sdegnosa", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...