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 xxv
... wonder the Quarterly should cut its own throat . It does me not the least harm in society . I know when a man is superior to me , and give him all due respect , he is the last to laugh at me . " Leigh Hunt again in his autobiography ...
... wonder the Quarterly should cut its own throat . It does me not the least harm in society . I know when a man is superior to me , and give him all due respect , he is the last to laugh at me . " Leigh Hunt again in his autobiography ...
Сторінка 5
... wonders pulsed tenfold , To feel this sun - rise and its glories old . Now while the silent workings of the dawn Were busiest , into that self - same lawn , All suddenly , with joyful cries , there sped A troop of little children ...
... wonders pulsed tenfold , To feel this sun - rise and its glories old . Now while the silent workings of the dawn Were busiest , into that self - same lawn , All suddenly , with joyful cries , there sped A troop of little children ...
Сторінка 20
... snorting four . Now when his chariot last Its beams against the zodiac - lion cast , There blossom'd suddenly a magic bed Of sacred dittany , and poppies red : At which I wonder'd greatly , knowing well That but 20 Endymion .
... snorting four . Now when his chariot last Its beams against the zodiac - lion cast , There blossom'd suddenly a magic bed Of sacred dittany , and poppies red : At which I wonder'd greatly , knowing well That but 20 Endymion .
Сторінка 21
John Keats William Bell Scott. At which I wonder'd greatly , knowing well That but one night had wrought this flowery spell ; And , sitting down close by , began to muse What it might mean . Perhaps , thought I , Morpheus , In passing ...
John Keats William Bell Scott. At which I wonder'd greatly , knowing well That but one night had wrought this flowery spell ; And , sitting down close by , began to muse What it might mean . Perhaps , thought I , Morpheus , In passing ...
Сторінка 26
... wonders ; struggles to devise some blame ; To put on such a look as would say , Shame On this poor weakness ! but , for all her strife , She could as soon have crush'd away the life From a sick dove . At length , to break the pause ...
... wonders ; struggles to devise some blame ; To put on such a look as would say , Shame On this poor weakness ! but , for all her strife , She could as soon have crush'd away the life From a sick dove . At length , to break the pause ...
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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.