PoemsGinn & Company, 1896 - 302 стор. |
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Сторінка 7
... hours ;. No no lute , no pipe , no incense sweet From chain - swung censer teeming ; hrine , no grove , no oracle , no heat Of pale - mouth'd prophet dreaming . O brightest ! though too late for antique vows , Too , too late for the ...
... hours ;. No no lute , no pipe , no incense sweet From chain - swung censer teeming ; hrine , no grove , no oracle , no heat Of pale - mouth'd prophet dreaming . O brightest ! though too late for antique vows , Too , too late for the ...
Сторінка 9
... hours by hours . 3 . Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay , where are they ? Think not of them , thou hast thy music too , While barred clouds bloom the soft - dying day , And touch the stubble - plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful ...
... hours by hours . 3 . Where are the songs of Spring ? Ay , where are they ? Think not of them , thou hast thy music too , While barred clouds bloom the soft - dying day , And touch the stubble - plains with rosy hue ; Then in a wailful ...
Сторінка 16
... hours are old and gray , And their minutes buried all Under the down - trodden pall Of the leaves of many years : Many times have winter's shears , Frozen North , and chilling East , Sounded tempests to the feast Of the forest's ...
... hours are old and gray , And their minutes buried all Under the down - trodden pall Of the leaves of many years : Many times have winter's shears , Frozen North , and chilling East , Sounded tempests to the feast Of the forest's ...
Сторінка 43
... hour . What though I am not wealthy in the dower Of spanning wisdom ; though I do not know 285 The shiftings of the mighty winds that blow Hither and thither all the changing thoughts Of man : though no great minist'ring reason sorts ...
... hour . What though I am not wealthy in the dower Of spanning wisdom ; though I do not know 285 The shiftings of the mighty winds that blow Hither and thither all the changing thoughts Of man : though no great minist'ring reason sorts ...
Сторінка 50
... 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 me sense Unhaunted quite of all but nothingness ...
... 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 me sense Unhaunted quite of all but nothingness ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
९९ adieu Æschylus Bacchus beauty behold beneath bliss bower breath bright Carian CHIG clouds cold Corinth dark death deep delight dost doth dream ears earth Enceladus Endymion eyes Faerie Queene faint fair fear feel flowers FMIC forest gentle goddess golden green grief hair hand happy heart heaven Hyperion immortal John Keats Keats Keats's kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone lute Lycius lyre melody morning mortal Naiad never night nymph o'er Ode to Psyche pain pale pass'd passion pleasant poem poet poetry rose round Saturn seem'd shade Sidney Colvin sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling UNIV vex'd voice weep whisper wide wild wind wings wonder words young youth ΙΟ
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Сторінка 2 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
Сторінка 67 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Сторінка 1 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Сторінка 10 - But when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud ; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, Or on the wealth of globed peonies ; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her her soft hand, and let her rave, And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
Сторінка 8 - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Сторінка 276 - The blisses of her dream so pure and deep At which fair Madeline began to weep, And moan forth witless words with many a sigh; While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep; Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye, Fearing to move or speak, she look'd so dreamingly. XXXV 'Ah, Porphyro!
Сторінка 265 - Flattered to tears this aged man and poor; But no — already had his deathbell rung; The joys of all his life were said and sung: His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve: Another way he went, and soon among 25 Rough.
Сторінка 191 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Сторінка 7 - No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. 0 brightest! though too late for antique vows, Too, too late for the fond believing lyre, When holy were the haunted forest boughs, Holy the air, the water, and the fire...
Сторінка 67 - Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...