The poetical works of John Keats, ed. by W.B. Scott, Випуск 639George Routledge and sons, the Broadway, Ludgate., 1873 - 351 стор. |
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Сторінка 21
... stars in virgin splendour pours ; And travelling my eye , until the doors Of heaven appear'd to open for my flight , I became loth and fearful to alight From such high soaring by a downward glance : So kept me stedfast in that airy ...
... stars in virgin splendour pours ; And travelling my eye , until the doors Of heaven appear'd to open for my flight , I became loth and fearful to alight From such high soaring by a downward glance : So kept me stedfast in that airy ...
Сторінка 22
... stars began to glide , And faint away , before my eager view : At which I sigh'd that I could not pursue , And dropp'd my vision to the horizon's verge ; And lo ! from opening clouds , I saw emerge The loveliest moon , that ever silver ...
... stars began to glide , And faint away , before my eager view : At which I sigh'd that I could not pursue , And dropp'd my vision to the horizon's verge ; And lo ! from opening clouds , I saw emerge The loveliest moon , that ever silver ...
Сторінка 23
... stars dart their artillery forth , And eagles struggle with the buffeting north That balances the heavy meteor - stone ; - Felt too , I was not fearful , nor alone , But lapp'd and lull'd along the dangerous sky . Soon Endymion . 23.
... stars dart their artillery forth , And eagles struggle with the buffeting north That balances the heavy meteor - stone ; - Felt too , I was not fearful , nor alone , But lapp'd and lull'd along the dangerous sky . Soon Endymion . 23.
Сторінка 42
... stars That tend thy bidding , I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky ! How beautiful thou art ! The world how deep ! How tremulous - dazzlingly the wheels sweep Around ...
... stars That tend thy bidding , I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky ! How beautiful thou art ! The world how deep ! How tremulous - dazzlingly the wheels sweep Around ...
Сторінка 64
... stars ; and he who listens to it Must surely be self - doomed or he will rue it : For quenchless burnings come upon the heart , Made fiercer by a fear lest any part Should be engulfed in the eddying wind . As much as here is penn'd doth ...
... stars ; and he who listens to it Must surely be self - doomed or he will rue it : For quenchless burnings come upon the heart , Made fiercer by a fear lest any part Should be engulfed in the eddying wind . As much as here is penn'd doth ...
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arms beauty beneath bliss blue breast breath bright clear clouds cold comes cool dark death deep delight doth dream earth Endymion eyes face fair fear feel feet felt flowers forest friends gentle give golden gone green hair hand happy hast head hear heard heart heaven hour Keats keep kiss leaves light lips live look morning mortal never night o'er once pain pale pass pleasant pleasure poet poor rest rose round seen shade side sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound speak spirit stars steps stood strange streams sure sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou thought took trees trembling twas voice warm wide wild wind wings wonder young youth
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Сторінка 318 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Сторінка 273 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Сторінка 272 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
Сторінка 279 - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreathed trellis of a working brain, With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in ! FANCY.
Сторінка 275 - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss. Though winning near the goal — yet do not grieve: She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss; For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love!
Сторінка 269 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness 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 happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Сторінка 321 - To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Сторінка 191 - As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
Сторінка 2 - Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead; All lovely tales that we have heard or read: An endless fountain of immortal drink, Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Сторінка 204 - And they are gone: ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm. That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe, And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form Of witch, and demon, and large coffinworm. Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform ; The Beadsman, after thousand aves told, For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.