The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
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Сторінка 7
... and let her rave , And feed deep , deep upon her peerless eyes . She dwells
with Beauty - Beauty that must die ; And Joy , whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu ; and aching Pleasure nigh , Turning to poison while the bee -
mouth sips ...
... and let her rave , And feed deep , deep upon her peerless eyes . She dwells
with Beauty - Beauty that must die ; And Joy , whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu ; and aching Pleasure nigh , Turning to poison while the bee -
mouth sips ...
Сторінка 8
O for a draught of vintage , that hath been Cool ' d a long age in the deep - delved
earth , Tasting of Flora and the country - green , Dance , and Provençal song ,
and sun - burnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South , Full of the true ...
O for a draught of vintage , that hath been Cool ' d a long age in the deep - delved
earth , Tasting of Flora and the country - green , Dance , and Provençal song ,
and sun - burnt mirth ! O for a beaker full of the warm South , Full of the true ...
Сторінка 10
... still stream , Up the hill - side ; and now ' tis buried deep In the next valley -
glades : Was it a vision , or a waking dream ? Fled is that music : - do I wake or
sleep ? ON A GRECIAN URN . C HOU still unravish ' 10 ODES .
... still stream , Up the hill - side ; and now ' tis buried deep In the next valley -
glades : Was it a vision , or a waking dream ? Fled is that music : - do I wake or
sleep ? ON A GRECIAN URN . C HOU still unravish ' 10 ODES .
Сторінка 13
Was it a silent deep - disguised plot To steal away , and leave without a task My
idle days ? Ripe was the drowsy hour ; The blissful cloud of summer - indolence
Benumb ' d my eyes ; my pulse grew less and less ; Pain had no sting , and ...
Was it a silent deep - disguised plot To steal away , and leave without a task My
idle days ? Ripe was the drowsy hour ; The blissful cloud of summer - indolence
Benumb ' d my eyes ; my pulse grew less and less ; Pain had no sting , and ...
Сторінка 42
Moan hither , all ye syllables of woe , From the deep throat of sad Melpomene !
Through bronzed lyre in tragic order go , And touch the strings into a mystery ;
Sound mournfully upon the winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be
Among ...
Moan hither , all ye syllables of woe , From the deep throat of sad Melpomene !
Through bronzed lyre in tragic order go , And touch the strings into a mystery ;
Sound mournfully upon the winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be
Among ...
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Бібліографічна інформація
| Назва | The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 The Letters and Poems of John Keats, John Gilmer Speed |
| Автор | John Keats |
| Редактор | John Gilmer Speed |
| Видавець | Dodd, Mead, 1883 |
| Оригінал із | Прінстонський університет |
| Оцифровано | 5 груд. 2008 |
| Експортувати бібліографічний опис | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |