The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
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Сторінка 8
Y heart aches , and a drowsy numbness I pains My sense , as though of hemlock
I had drunk , Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past , and
Lethe - wards had sunk : ' Tis not through envy of thy happy lot , But being too ...
Y heart aches , and a drowsy numbness I pains My sense , as though of hemlock
I had drunk , Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past , and
Lethe - wards had sunk : ' Tis not through envy of thy happy lot , But being too ...
Сторінка 10
No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was
heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self - same song that
found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth , when sick for home , She stood in ...
No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was
heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self - same song that
found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth , when sick for home , She stood in ...
Сторінка 12
John Keats John Gilmer Speed. For ever panting and for ever young ; All
breathing human passion far above , That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy '
d , A burning forehead , and a parching tongue . Who are these coming to the
sacrifice ...
John Keats John Gilmer Speed. For ever panting and for ever young ; All
breathing human passion far above , That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy '
d , A burning forehead , and a parching tongue . Who are these coming to the
sacrifice ...
Сторінка 14
And for that poor Ambition ! it springs From a man ' s little heart ' s short fever - fit ;
For Poesy ! - - no , - she has not a joy , – At least for me , - so sweet as drowsy
noons , And evenings steep ' d in honied indolence ; O , for an age so shelter ' d ...
And for that poor Ambition ! it springs From a man ' s little heart ' s short fever - fit ;
For Poesy ! - - no , - she has not a joy , – At least for me , - so sweet as drowsy
noons , And evenings steep ' d in honied indolence ; O , for an age so shelter ' d ...
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HYSICIAN Nature ! let my spirit blood ! - O ease my heart of verse and let me rest
; Throw me upon thy Tripod , till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full
breast . A theme ! a theme ! great nature ! give a theme ; Let me begin my dream .
HYSICIAN Nature ! let my spirit blood ! - O ease my heart of verse and let me rest
; Throw me upon thy Tripod , till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full
breast . A theme ! a theme ! great nature ! give a theme ; Let me begin my dream .
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