And there is twice the fervour of its sunset in the description of the sunrise at Asolo in _Pippa Passes_.
Again, there is scarcely a trace in his work of any vital interest in the changes of thought and feeling in England during the sixty years of his life, such as appear everywhere in Tennyson.

No one would know from his poetry (at least until the very end of his life, when he wrote _Francis Furini_) that the science of life and its origins had been revolutionised in the midst of his career, or, save in _A Death in the Desert_, that the whole aspect of theology had been altered, or that the democratic movement had taken so many new forms.

He showed to these English struggles neither attraction nor repulsion.

They scarcely existed for him--transient elements of the world, merely national, not universal.

Nor did the literature or art of his own country engage him half so much as the literature and art of Italy.