Help needed! Who said this?

[lilichatters]

Tony asks: Who said that thing
about the eternal hopefulness of the human heart? Well, who did?

I am a translator and I have no idea, but it might be relevant.
When he asks e.g. about "the littleness of life that art exaggerates", it is acutally Flaubert who spoke of the smallness of passions that art exaggerates, so Tony's memory may have been playing tricks here too , and I cannot place this allusion.
Grateful for any help.

[terefere]

Is it a phrase „Hope springs eternal in the human breast”? Where is it ?

[lilichatters]

That's Pope's hope! Thank you very much!

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[terefere]

William Butler Yeats

[shadow=red,left,300]Sailing to Bysantium[/shadow]

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.


[shadow=red,left,300]Odjazd do Bizancjum[/shadow]
I
To nie jest kraj dla starych ludzi. Miêdzy drzewa
M³odzi id± w u¶cisku, ptak leci w zieleni,
Generacje ¶miertelne, a ka¿da z nich ¶piewa,
Skoki ³ososi, w morzach ³awice makreli,
Ca³e lato wys³awiaæ bêd± chóry ziemi
Wszystko, co jest poczête, rodzi siê, umiera.
Nikt nie dba, t± zmys³ow± muzyk± objêty
O intelekt i trwa³e jego monumenty.

II
Nêdzn± rzecz± jest cz³owiek na staro¶æ, nie wiêcej
Ni¿ ³achmanem wisz±cym na kiju, i chyba,
¯e dusza pie¶ni sk³adaæ umie, kla¶nie w rêce,
A od cielesnych zniszczeñ pie¶ni jej przybywa.
Tej wiedzy w ¿adnej szkole ¶piewu nie nabêdzie,
W pomnikach w³asnej chwa³y tylko j± odkrywa.
Dlatego ja morzami ¿egluj±c przyby³em
Do ¶wiêtego miasta Bizancjum.

III
O mêdrcy gorej±cy w ¶wiêtym boskim ogniu
Jak na mozaice u ¶cian pe³nych z³ota,
Wyjd¼cie z p³omienia, co ¿arem was oblók³,
Nauczcie, jak mam ¶piewaæ, podyktujcie s³owa.
Przepalcie moje serce. Chore jest, po¿±da,
I kiedy zwierzê z nim spêtane kona,
Serce nic nie pojmuje. Zabierzcie mnie z wami
W wieczno¶æ, któr± kunsztownie zmy¶lili¶cie sami.      

IV
A kiedy za natury krain± ju¿ bêdê,
Nigdy formy z natury wziêtej nie przybiorê.
Jak u greckich z³otników, tak formê wyprzêdê
Wplataj±cych w emaliê li¶æ i z³ot± korê,
A¿eby senny cesarz budzi³ siê ze dworem,
Albo tê, jak± w z³otej wykuli gêstwinie,
¯eby ¶piewa³a panom i damom Bizancjum
O tym, co ju¿ minê³o, czy mija, czy minie.
Przek³ad: Czes³aw Mi³osz

[jenny4330]

hey translators ! I am also planning to translate Mr Barnes work in Chinese in my dissertation . Anyone has any idea how to ask for his permission on copyrights ?? Millions of thanks !!

[disbeliever]

Something's not right, so many exclamation points ...