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Victor Hugo Novelist, poet, and dramatist, the most important of French Romantic writers . In his preface to his historical play CROMWELL (1827) Hugo wrote that romanticism is the liberalism of literature. Hugo developed his own version of the historical novel, combining concrete, historical details with vivid, melodramatic, even feverish imagination.
Hugo's father was an officer in Napoleon's army, an enthusiastic republican and ruthless professional soldier, who loved dangers and adventures. After the marriage of his parents had collapsed, he was raised by his mother. He began in early adolescence to write verse tragedies and poetry, and translated Virgil . At the age of sixteen he noted: "Many a great poet is often / Nothing but a literary giraffe: / How great he seems in front, / How small he is behind!
Victor Hugo lead an extraordinary life during a crucial turning point in world history. Hugo's literary works and later, his political career weilded great influence and eventually catapulted his reputation around the world brining him much controversy. He spent much of his life in France with the exception of his 19 year exile, but his poetry , novels , and plays touched the lives of people from around the globe and continues to attract new admirers.
More Strong Than Time • Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet, • Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid, • Since I have known your soul, and all the bloom of it, • And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade; • Since it was given to me to hear on happy while, • The words wherein your heart spoke all its mysteries, • Since I have seen you weep, and since I have seen you smile,
Your lips upon my lips, and your eyes upon my eyes • Since I have known above my forehead glance and gleam • A ray, a single ray, of your star, veiled always, • Since I have felt the fall, upon my lifetime's stream, • Of one rose petal plucked from the roses of your days; • I now am bold to say to the swift changing hours, • Pass, pass upon your way, for I grow never old,
Fleet to the dark abysm with all your fading flowers, • One rose that none may pluck, within my heart I hold. • Your flying wings may smite, but they can never spill • The cup fulfilled of love, from which my lips are wet; • My heart has far more fire than you can frost to chill, • My soul more love than you can make my soul forget.