Letters of John Keats to His Family and FriendsMacmillan and Company, 1891 - 377 стор. |
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Сторінка 18
... sort of a body — like my landlady of the Bell . I should conject- ure that the very spright that " the green sour ringlets makes Whereof the ewe not bites " had manufactured it of the dew fallen on said sour ringlets . I think I could ...
... sort of a body — like my landlady of the Bell . I should conject- ure that the very spright that " the green sour ringlets makes Whereof the ewe not bites " had manufactured it of the dew fallen on said sour ringlets . I think I could ...
Сторінка 20
... sort of things — here am I among Colleges , halls , Stalls , Plenty of Trees , thank God - Plenty of water , thank heaven - Plenty of Books , thank the Muses - Plenty of Snuff , thank Sir Walter Raleigh - Plenty of segars , -Ditto ...
... sort of things — here am I among Colleges , halls , Stalls , Plenty of Trees , thank God - Plenty of water , thank heaven - Plenty of Books , thank the Muses - Plenty of Snuff , thank Sir Walter Raleigh - Plenty of segars , -Ditto ...
Сторінка 22
... sort of a Person and lived solitary among the trees and Plains little thinking that such a beautiful Creature as the Moon was growing mad in Love with him . However so it was ; and when he was asleep on the Grass she used to come down ...
... sort of a Person and lived solitary among the trees and Plains little thinking that such a beautiful Creature as the Moon was growing mad in Love with him . However so it was ; and when he was asleep on the Grass she used to come down ...
Сторінка 38
... sort of confidence , would do you a great happiness . May that be one of the many blessings I wish you . Let me be but the one - tenth of one to you , and I shall think it great . My brother George's kindest wishes to you . My dear ...
... sort of confidence , would do you a great happiness . May that be one of the many blessings I wish you . Let me be but the one - tenth of one to you , and I shall think it great . My brother George's kindest wishes to you . My dear ...
Сторінка 53
... sort of a Club every Saturday evening - to - morrow , but I have on that day an insuperable engagement . Cripps has been down to me , and appears sensible that a binding to you would be of the greatest advantage to him - if such a thing ...
... sort of a Club every Saturday evening - to - morrow , but I have on that day an insuperable engagement . Cripps has been down to me , and appears sensible that a binding to you would be of the greatest advantage to him - if such a thing ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
affectionate Brother JOHN affectionate friend JOHN beautiful Ben Nevis BENJAMIN BAILEY BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON Book Brown called Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE copy delightful Devonshire Dilke dined Endymion eyes FANNY KEATS feel friend JOHN KEATS George give glad Hampstead happy Haslam Hazlitt head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt idea Imagination Isle Isle of Wight JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Lady lately leave Leigh Hunt letter Little Britain live look Miles mind Miss morning Mountains never night perhaps pleasant pleasure Poem poet Poetry poor Port Patrick pretty remember Rice seen Shakspeare sincere friend JOHN sister sonnet soon sort soul speak spirit talk TAYLOR Teignmouth tell thee thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought to-day to-morrow town trees walk Wentworth Place wish word Wordsworth write written wrote yesterday young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 235 - How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.
Сторінка 207 - BARDS of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth ! Have ye souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new ? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the spheres of sun and moon ; With the noise of fountains wond'rous, And the parle of voices thund'rous ; With the whisper of heaven's trees And one another, in soft ease...
Сторінка 258 - So let me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours ! Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged censer teeming : Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane In some untrodden region of my mind...
Сторінка 259 - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreath'd 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!
Сторінка 25 - But we are spirits of another sort. I with the morning's love have oft made sport ; And, like a forester, the groves may tread, Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
Сторінка 168 - The Genius of Poetry must work out its own salvation in a man. It cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself. That which is creative must create itself.
Сторінка 48 - 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 167 - Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own Works. My own domestic criticism has given me pain without comparison beyond what Blackwood or the Quarterly could possibly inflict...
Сторінка 105 - 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 69 - Or the seven stars to light you, Or the polar ray to right you; But you never may behold Little John, or Robin bold; Never one, of all the clan, Thrumming on an empty can Some old hunting ditty, while He doth his green way beguile To fair hostess Merriment, Down beside the pasture Trent; For he left the merry tale Messenger for spicy ale.