The Poems of John Keats, Том 2Dodd, Mead, 1905 - 614 стор. |
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Сторінка xxi
... sense of the word , must have been very scanty . Of Greek he had learned nothing ; and though he had some knowledge of Latin , for he had already begun , as a pastime , a translation of Vergil's Aeneid , he could hardly have reached ...
... sense of the word , must have been very scanty . Of Greek he had learned nothing ; and though he had some knowledge of Latin , for he had already begun , as a pastime , a translation of Vergil's Aeneid , he could hardly have reached ...
Сторінка xxviii
... sense of the beautiful in art and nature , and chivalry was always more of an ecstasy than an activity . There is no wonder that Keats under his influence failed to realise that the intense sensuousness of Spenser's descriptions is only ...
... sense of the beautiful in art and nature , and chivalry was always more of an ecstasy than an activity . There is no wonder that Keats under his influence failed to realise that the intense sensuousness of Spenser's descriptions is only ...
Сторінка xxxi
... sense , the sound critical insight into the faults of himself and others , the habitual thoughtfulness of mind , the tender devotion to his family and friends , revealed in his letters and amply attested by all who knew him , are quite ...
... sense , the sound critical insight into the faults of himself and others , the habitual thoughtfulness of mind , the tender devotion to his family and friends , revealed in his letters and amply attested by all who knew him , are quite ...
Сторінка xxxii
... 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 my soul to the latter . ” 1 This utterance is characteristic , not merely of a vague and fitful ...
... 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 my soul to the latter . ” 1 This utterance is characteristic , not merely of a vague and fitful ...
Сторінка xxxix
... sense of elevated thoughts " . " The realm of Flora and old Pan " in which he spent so many pleasant hours of comradeship " choosing each pleasure that the fancy sees " must now be renounced for a nobler life Where I may see the agonies ...
... sense of elevated thoughts " . " The realm of Flora and old Pan " in which he spent so many pleasant hours of comradeship " choosing each pleasure that the fancy sees " must now be renounced for a nobler life Where I may see the agonies ...
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Albert Apollo Auranthe beauty bliss breath bright clouds Conrad dark death deep delight dost doth dream earth Elgin Marbles Enceladus Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes Faerie Queene fair Fall of Hyperion feel flowers Forman gentle George Keats Gersa Glocester golden green hand happy hast hath head heart heaven hour Hunt Hyperion John Keats Keats Keats's kiss lady Lamia Leigh Hunt light lines lips look Ludolph Lycius melody Milton moon morning mortal never night numbers o'er Otho Ovid pain pale Paradise Lost passage passion poem poet Saturn seem'd shade sigh Sigifred silent silver Sleep and Poetry smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul Spenser spirit stars stood story sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought trees trembling twas voice weep wild wind wings wonder Woodhouse words Wordsworth young ΙΟ
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 191 - Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
Сторінка xxxv - I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of Imagination— What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth— whether it existed before or not...
Сторінка 473 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life!
Сторінка 201 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel...
Сторінка 191 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Сторінка 34 - 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 190 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow- time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
Сторінка 187 - 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...
Сторінка 201 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music, too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue...
Сторінка 185 - Tis dark: quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet: " This is no dream, my bride, my Madeline ! " 'Tis dark: the iced gusts still rave and beat: " No dream, alas ! alas ! and woe is mine ! Porphyro will leave me here to fade and pine. — Cruel! what traitor could thee hither bring? I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine, Though thou forsakest a deceived thing — A dove forlorn and lost with sick unpruned wing.