Life, Letters, and Literary Remains, of John KeatsG. P. Putnam, 1848 - 393 стор. |
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Сторінка 10
... pain - to show , how love of pleasure was in him continually subordinate to higher aspirations , notwithstanding the sharp zest of enjoyment which his mer- curial nature conferred on him ; and above all , I had to illustrate how little ...
... pain - to show , how love of pleasure was in him continually subordinate to higher aspirations , notwithstanding the sharp zest of enjoyment which his mer- curial nature conferred on him ; and above all , I had to illustrate how little ...
Сторінка 21
... painful contrast with the harsh judgment and late remorse of their object , the proud and successful poet , who never heard of this imperfect utterance of boyish sympathy and respect . The impressible nature of Keats would naturally ...
... painful contrast with the harsh judgment and late remorse of their object , the proud and successful poet , who never heard of this imperfect utterance of boyish sympathy and respect . The impressible nature of Keats would naturally ...
Сторінка 23
... pain , When some bright thought has darted through my brain- Through all the day , I've felt a greater pleasure Than if I'd brought to light a hidden treasure . " Although this foretaste of fame is in most cases a delusion , ( as the ...
... pain , When some bright thought has darted through my brain- Through all the day , I've felt a greater pleasure Than if I'd brought to light a hidden treasure . " Although this foretaste of fame is in most cases a delusion , ( as the ...
Сторінка 28
... painful associa- tions it recalls a life of long struggle without a prize , of perse- vering hope stranded on despair ; high talents laboriously applied earning the same catastrophe as waits on abilities vainly wasted ; frugality , self ...
... painful associa- tions it recalls a life of long struggle without a prize , of perse- vering hope stranded on despair ; high talents laboriously applied earning the same catastrophe as waits on abilities vainly wasted ; frugality , self ...
Сторінка 29
... opening of the morning's eye . Such dim - conceived glories of the brain , Bring round the heart an indescribable feud ; So do these wonders a most dizzy pain , That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting of old JOHN KEATS . 29.
... opening of the morning's eye . Such dim - conceived glories of the brain , Bring round the heart an indescribable feud ; So do these wonders a most dizzy pain , That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting of old JOHN KEATS . 29.
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affectionate friend Albert Auranthe Bailey beautiful Bertha breathe bright brother Brown Castle Conrad dare DEAR REYNOLDS death delight Dilke doth Elgin Marbles Emperor Endymion Erminia Ethelbert Exeunt eyes fair fame feel flowers genius George George Keats Gersa give Glocester Gonfred Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart Heaven honor hope Hunt Hyperion imagination Isle of Wight JOHN KEATS Keats's lady leave Leigh Hunt letter literary live look Lord Lord Byron Ludolph mind morning nature never night noble numbers Otho pain Paradise Lost pass passion perhaps pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor Port Patrick Prince Severn Shakspeare Sigifred sister sleep soft song Sonnet sort soul speak spirit Staffa sure sweet TEIGNMOUTH tell thee thing thou thought tion to-day truth verse walk wings word Wordsworth write written wrote
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Сторінка 64 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Сторінка 171 - A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the...
Сторінка 74 - I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: // Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. // Near them, on the sand, / Half sunk, / a shattered visage lies, / whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, / Tell that its sculptor / well those passions read / Which yet survive, / stamped on these lifeless things, / The hand that mocked them, / and the heart that fed: // And on the pedestal / these words appear: // "My...
Сторінка 68 - I think Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by Singularity — it should strike the Reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a Remembrance — 2nd.
Сторінка 41 - I have never yet been able to perceive how any thing can be known for truth by consecutive reasoning — and yet it must be. Can it be that even the greatest philosopher ever arrived at his goal without putting aside numerous objections. However it may be, O for a Life of sensations rather than of thoughts ! It is 'a vision in the form of youth
Сторінка 141 - I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death. Even as a Matter of present interest the attempt to crush me in the Quarterly has only brought me more into notice, and it is a common expression among book men, " I wonder the Quarterly should cut its own throat.
Сторінка 59 - Dilke on various subjects; several things dove-tailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously — I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason...
Сторінка 85 - Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian ? or thy smiles Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, By bards who died content on pleasant sward, Leaving great verse unto a little clan ? O, give me their old vigour, and unheard Save of the quiet Primrose, and the span Of heaven and few ears, Rounded by thee, my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day.
Сторінка 193 - I have given up Hyperion — there were too many Miltonic inversions in it — Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist's humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up.
Сторінка 82 - I have been hovering for some time between an exquisite sense of the luxurious, and a love for philosophy, — were I calculated for the former, I should be glad. But as I am not, I shall turn all my soul to the latter.