The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 45
Сторінка 3
... Fairer than these , though temple thou hast none , Nor altar heap'd with flowers ; Nor Virgin - choir to make delicious moan Upon the midnight hours ; No voice , no lute , no pipe , no incense sweet From chain - swung censer teeming ...
... Fairer than these , though temple thou hast none , Nor altar heap'd with flowers ; Nor Virgin - choir to make delicious moan Upon the midnight hours ; No voice , no lute , no pipe , no incense sweet From chain - swung censer teeming ...
Сторінка 5
... hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers ; And sometime like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook ; Or by a cider - press , with patient look , Thou watchest the last oozings , hours by hours .
... hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers ; And sometime like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook ; Or by a cider - press , with patient look , Thou watchest the last oozings , hours by hours .
Сторінка 8
Keats took great pleasure in her song , and one morning took his chair from the breakfast - table to the grass plot under a plum tree , where he remained between two and three hours . He then reached the house with some scraps of paper ...
Keats took great pleasure in her song , and one morning took his chair from the breakfast - table to the grass plot under a plum tree , where he remained between two and three hours . He then reached the house with some scraps of paper ...
Сторінка 13
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 pleasure's wreath no flower : O , why did ye not melt , and leave my sense Unhaunted quite of ...
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 pleasure's wreath no flower : O , why did ye not melt , and leave my sense Unhaunted quite of ...
Сторінка 21
Ah ! if you prize my subdued soul above The poor , the fading , brief pride of an hour ; Let none profane my Holy See of love , Or with a rude hand break The sacramental cake : Let none else touch the just new - budded Aower If not ...
Ah ! if you prize my subdued soul above The poor , the fading , brief pride of an hour ; Let none profane my Holy See of love , Or with a rude hand break The sacramental cake : Let none else touch the just new - budded Aower If not ...
Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
Albert arms Auranthe beauty breathe bright close clouds cold comes Conrad dark dead death deep door doth dream earth Emperor Enter Erminia Ethelbert eyes face fair fear feel feet fire flowers follow Gersa give gold golden green hair hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hour keep king lady leave light lips live look lord Ludolph Lycius moan moon morn mortal never night noble once Otho pain pale pass poor Prince rose round Saturn SCENE seen shade side Sigifred silent silver sleep soft sorrow soul speak Spirit stars step stood sure sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought tongue took turn voice warm weep whisper wide winds wine wings young