The Letters of John KeatsReeves & Turner, 1895 - 522 стор. |
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Сторінка v
... Bailey November 1817 XXI . To Benjamin Bailey 5 November 1817 ... XXII . To Charles Wentworth Dilke November 1817 XXIII . To John Hamilton Reynolds 22 November 1817 XXIV . To Benjamin Bailey 22 November , 1817 XXV . To George and Thomas ...
... Bailey November 1817 XXI . To Benjamin Bailey 5 November 1817 ... XXII . To Charles Wentworth Dilke November 1817 XXIII . To John Hamilton Reynolds 22 November 1817 XXIV . To Benjamin Bailey 22 November , 1817 XXV . To George and Thomas ...
Сторінка vi
... Bailey 13 March 1818 XLIII . To John Hamilton Reynolds 14 March 1818 XLIV . To Benjamin Robert Haydon 21 March 1818 ... Bailey 28 May 1818 ... LVI . To Misses M. and S. Jeffrey 4 June 1818 LVII . To Benjamin Bailey 10 June 1818 ... LVIII ...
... Bailey 13 March 1818 XLIII . To John Hamilton Reynolds 14 March 1818 XLIV . To Benjamin Robert Haydon 21 March 1818 ... Bailey 28 May 1818 ... LVI . To Misses M. and S. Jeffrey 4 June 1818 LVII . To Benjamin Bailey 10 June 1818 ... LVIII ...
Сторінка vii
... Bailey LXVI . To Thomas Keats LXVII . To Thomas Keats LXVIII . To Mrs. Wylie LXIX . To Fanny Keats LXX . To Fanny Keats LXXI . To Jane Reynolds 1 September 1818 LXXII . To Charles Wentworth Dilke 21 September 1818 ... 6 ...
... Bailey LXVI . To Thomas Keats LXVII . To Thomas Keats LXVIII . To Mrs. Wylie LXIX . To Fanny Keats LXX . To Fanny Keats LXXI . To Jane Reynolds 1 September 1818 LXXII . To Charles Wentworth Dilke 21 September 1818 ... 6 ...
Сторінка viii
... Bailey CXXIV . To Fanny Brawne 15 August 1819 16 August 1819 CXXV . To John Taylor 23 August 1819 ... ... 361 ... 363 364 ... ... 367 CXXVI . To John Hamilton Reynolds 25 August 1819 369 28 August 1819 CXXVII . To Fanny Keats CXXVIII ...
... Bailey CXXIV . To Fanny Brawne 15 August 1819 16 August 1819 CXXV . To John Taylor 23 August 1819 ... ... 361 ... 363 364 ... ... 367 CXXVI . To John Hamilton Reynolds 25 August 1819 369 28 August 1819 CXXVII . To Fanny Keats CXXVIII ...
Сторінка 31
... Bailey , scarcely ever well , has gone to bed , pleased that I am writing to you . To your brother John ( whom henceforth I shall consider as mine ) and to you , my dear friends , Marianne and Jane , I shall ever feel grateful for ...
... Bailey , scarcely ever well , has gone to bed , pleased that I am writing to you . To your brother John ( whom henceforth I shall consider as mine ) and to you , my dear friends , Marianne and Jane , I shall ever feel grateful for ...
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Abbey affectionate Brother John beautiful Bedhampton Ben Nevis BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON Book Brown called CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE copy dear Fanny dear Haydon dear Reynolds delight Dilke dined endeavour Endymion eyes FANNY BRAWNE FANNY KEATS feel friend John Keats George give Hampstead happy Haslam Hazlitt head hear heard heart hope Hunt Isle Isle of Wight JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Lady lately leave letter live look miles mind Miss morning Mother Mountains never night pass perhaps pleasant pleasure Poem poet Poetry poor Port Patrick Postmark pretty remember Rice seen Shanklin sincere friend Sister sonnet soon sorry sort soul speak spirits Staffa sweet talk Taylor Teignmouth tell thee thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought to-day to-morrow town walk Walthamstow Wentworth Place wish word Wordsworth write written wrote yesterday
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Сторінка 256 - 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 wondrous, And the parle of voices thund'rous ; With the whisper of heaven's trees...
Сторінка 210 - As to the poetical character itself (I mean that sort, of which, if I am anything, I am a member; that sort distinguished from the Wordsworthian, or egotistical Sublime ; which is a thing per se, and stands alone...
Сторінка 84 - SOULS of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Сторінка 491 - The music, yearning like a God in pain, She scarcely heard: her maiden eyes divine, Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train Pass by...
Сторінка 2 - GREAT spirits now on earth are sojourning : He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing : He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake : And lo ! whose steadfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. And other spirits there are standing apart Upon the forehead of the age to come : These, these will give the world another heart, And other pulses. Hear ye...
Сторінка 57 - Dilke upon 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 80 - WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charact'ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, That...
Сторінка 331 - Mid hush'd, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed, Blue, silver-white, and budded Tyrian, They lay calm-breathing on the bedded grass; Their arms embraced, and their pinions too; Their lips touch'd not, but had not bade adieu, As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber, And ready still past kisses to outnumber At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love: The winged boy I knew; But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove? His Psyche true! O latest born and loveliest vision far Of all Olympus
Сторінка 332 - When holy were the haunted forest boughs, Holy the air, the water, and the fire...
Сторінка 84 - Drest as though bold Robin Hood Would, with his maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a...