The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One VolumeJohn Grigg, 1831 - 607 стор. |
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Сторінка 12
... breath To sigh and pant with , up Want's rugged steep . Away , Grim Phantom ! Scorpion King , away ,! Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of state ! Lo ! by the grave I stand of one , for whom ...
... breath To sigh and pant with , up Want's rugged steep . Away , Grim Phantom ! Scorpion King , away ,! Reserve thy terrors and thy stings display For coward Wealth and Guilt in robes of state ! Lo ! by the grave I stand of one , for whom ...
Сторінка 17
... breath of Love . In tender accents , faint and low , Well - pleased I hear the whisper'd " No ! " The whisper'd " No " -how little meant ! Sweet falsehood that endears consent ! For on those lovely lips the while Dawns the soft ...
... breath of Love . In tender accents , faint and low , Well - pleased I hear the whisper'd " No ! " The whisper'd " No " -how little meant ! Sweet falsehood that endears consent ! For on those lovely lips the while Dawns the soft ...
Сторінка 27
... Breath , —the Living God . Guiding his course or by Niemi lake Such symphony requires best instrument . Seize , then ! my soul ! from Freedom's trophied dome , The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields Of Brutus and Leonidas ...
... Breath , —the Living God . Guiding his course or by Niemi lake Such symphony requires best instrument . Seize , then ! my soul ! from Freedom's trophied dome , The Harp which hangeth high between the Shields Of Brutus and Leonidas ...
Сторінка 45
... breath of healing , That his sick body might have ease and rest ; He strove in vain ! the dull sighs from his chest Against his will the stifling load revealing , Though Nature forced ; though like some captive guest , Some royal ...
... breath of healing , That his sick body might have ease and rest ; He strove in vain ! the dull sighs from his chest Against his will the stifling load revealing , Though Nature forced ; though like some captive guest , Some royal ...
Сторінка 49
... breathing subtlest damps , Mix'd their own venom with the rain from Heaven , That I woke poison'd ! But , all praise to ... breath , Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse ! Nor ever cease Yon tiny cone of sand its ...
... breathing subtlest damps , Mix'd their own venom with the rain from Heaven , That I woke poison'd ! But , all praise to ... breath , Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse ! Nor ever cease Yon tiny cone of sand its ...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume Samuel Taylor Coleridge Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2012 |
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AHASUERUS ALHADRA ALVAR arms art thou BATHORY BEATRICE beneath BETHLEN blood breath bright BUTLER calm cavern CENCI child clouds COUNTESS curse CYCLOPS CYPRIAN DÆMON dare dark dead dear death deep DEMOGORGON doth dream earth Egra EMERICK eyes fair faith father fear feel flowers gaze gentle GLYCINE hast hath hear heard heart Heaven hope hour human ILLO ISIDORE ISOLANI lady LASKA light lips living look look'd Lord MEPHISTOPHELES mighty moon mother mountains never night o'er OCTAVIO ORDONIO pale PANTHEA poison'd PROMETHEUS QUESTENBERG RAAB KIUPRILI Robespierre round SAROLTA SCENE seem'd SEMICHORUS shadow silent SILENUS slaves sleep smile song soul sound speak spirit stars strange stream sweet tears tempest TERESA TERTSKY thee THEKLA thine things thou art thought throne truth Twas tyrant VALDEZ voice WALLENSTEIN waves weep wild wind wings words
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Сторінка 458 - I bear light shades for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again 1 dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Сторінка 460 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then — as I am listening now.
Сторінка 72 - But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made ; Its path was not upon the sea In ripple or in shade.
Сторінка 459 - I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist earth was laughing below.
Сторінка 75 - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Сторінка 459 - That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer...
Сторінка 453 - So sweet, the sense faints picturing them ! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves...
Сторінка 453 - ODE TO THE WEST WIND O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow...
Сторінка 460 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Сторінка 459 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea...