The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Том 3 |
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WHY DID I LAUGH TO - NIGHT ? No VOICE WILL TELL : " . . . . 283 XIII . ON A
DREAM . . . . . . . 283 XIV . “ IF BY DULL RHYMES OUR ENGLISH MUST BE
CHAIN ' D " . . . . . . 284 xv . " THE DAY IS GONE , AND ALL ITS SWEETS ARE
GONE !
WHY DID I LAUGH TO - NIGHT ? No VOICE WILL TELL : " . . . . 283 XIII . ON A
DREAM . . . . . . . 283 XIV . “ IF BY DULL RHYMES OUR ENGLISH MUST BE
CHAIN ' D " . . . . . . 284 xv . " THE DAY IS GONE , AND ALL ITS SWEETS ARE
GONE !
Сторінка 12
And , little town , thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why
thou art desolate can e ' er return . , O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of
marble men and maidens overwrought , With forest branches and the trodden ...
And , little town , thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why
thou art desolate can e ' er return . , O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of
marble men and maidens overwrought , With forest branches and the trodden ...
Сторінка 26
... Until sweet Isabella ' s untouch ' d cheek Fell sick within the rose ' s just domain
, Fell thin as a young mother ' s , who doth seek By every lull to cool her infant ' s
pain : “ How ill she is ! ” said he , “ I may not speak , And yet I will , and tell my ...
... Until sweet Isabella ' s untouch ' d cheek Fell sick within the rose ' s just domain
, Fell thin as a young mother ' s , who doth seek By every lull to cool her infant ' s
pain : “ How ill she is ! ” said he , “ I may not speak , And yet I will , and tell my ...
Сторінка 39
She gazed into the fresh - thrown mould , as though One glance did fully all its
secrets tell ; Clearly she saw , as other eyes would know Pale limbs at bottom of a
crystal well ; Upon the murderous spot she seem ' d to grow , Like to a native lily ...
She gazed into the fresh - thrown mould , as though One glance did fully all its
secrets tell ; Clearly she saw , as other eyes would know Pale limbs at bottom of a
crystal well ; Upon the murderous spot she seem ' d to grow , Like to a native lily ...
Сторінка 45
Who alive can say , “ Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams ? ” Since every
man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions and would speak , if he had loved ,
And been well nurtured in his mother tongue . Whether the dream now purposed
to ...
Who alive can say , “ Thou art no Poet - mayst not tell thy dreams ? ” Since every
man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions and would speak , if he had loved ,
And been well nurtured in his mother tongue . Whether the dream now purposed
to ...
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