human
Larger so much by the heart
gpt
Larger so much by the head,
human
Napoleon III. in Italy
gpt
A Court Lady, and there are few satires more biting than
human
An August Voice,
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But He stood sad before the sun (The peoples felt their fate): 'The world is many,--I am one; My great Deed was too great. God's fruit of justice ripens slow: Men's souls are narrow; let them grow. My brothers, we must wait.'
human
Tale of Villafranca in full faith, after many a mile-stone in time lay between her and the _fact_, her friends remember how the woman bent and was wellnigh crushed, as by a thunderbolt, when the intelligence of this Imperial Treaty was first received. Coming so quickly upon the heels of the victories of Solferino and San Martino, it is no marvel that what stunned Italy should have almost killed Mrs. Browning. That it hastened her into the grave is beyond a doubt, as she never fully shook off the severe attack of illness occasioned by this check upon her life-hopes. The summer of 1859 was a weary, suffering season for her in consequence; and although the following winter, passed in Rome, helped to repair the evil that had been wrought, a heavy cold, caught at the end of the season, (and for the sake of seeing Rome's gift of swords to Napoleon and Victor Emmanuel,) told upon her lungs. The autumn of 1860 brought with it another sorrow in the death of a beloved sister, and this loss seemed more than Mrs. Browning could bear; but by breathing the soft air of Rome again she seemed to revive, and indeed wrote that she was