The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
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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 flower If not — may
my ...
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 flower If not — may
my ...
Сторінка 32
To - day we purpose , ay , this hour we mount To spur three leagues towards the
Apennine ; Come down , we pray thee , ere the hot sun count His dewy rosary on
the eglantine . " Lorenzo , courteously as he was wont , Bow ' d a fair greeting to ...
To - day we purpose , ay , this hour we mount To spur three leagues towards the
Apennine ; Come down , we pray thee , ere the hot sun count His dewy rosary on
the eglantine . " Lorenzo , courteously as he was wont , Bow ' d a fair greeting to ...
Сторінка 34
But Selfishness , Love ' s cousin , held not long Its fiery vigil in her single breast ;
She fretted for the golden hour , and hung Upon the time with feverish unrest -
Not long ; for soon into her heart a throng Of higher occupants , a richer zest ...
But Selfishness , Love ' s cousin , held not long Its fiery vigil in her single breast ;
She fretted for the golden hour , and hung Upon the time with feverish unrest -
Not long ; for soon into her heart a throng Of higher occupants , a richer zest ...
Сторінка 37
Upon the skirts of human nature dwelling Alone : I chant alone the holy mass ,
While little sounds of life are round me knelling , And glossy bees at noon do
fieldward pass , And many a chapel bell the hour is telling , Paining me through :
those ...
Upon the skirts of human nature dwelling Alone : I chant alone the holy mass ,
While little sounds of life are round me knelling , And glossy bees at noon do
fieldward pass , And many a chapel bell the hour is telling , Paining me through :
those ...
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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 |