KeatsHarper & Brothers, 1887 - 257 стор. |
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Сторінка 19
... true ! for the beauty of imagery , description , and simile than for the interest of action or passion . Newmarch used some- times to laugh at Keats and his flights - to the indignation of his brothers , who came often to see him , and ...
... true ! for the beauty of imagery , description , and simile than for the interest of action or passion . Newmarch used some- times to laugh at Keats and his flights - to the indignation of his brothers , who came often to see him , and ...
Сторінка 30
... true master of the heroic couplet had been Dry- den , on whom the verse of Rimini is avowedly modelled . The result is an odd blending of the grave and the collo- Rimini oquial cadences of Dryden , without his characteristic nerve and ...
... true master of the heroic couplet had been Dry- den , on whom the verse of Rimini is avowedly modelled . The result is an odd blending of the grave and the collo- Rimini oquial cadences of Dryden , without his characteristic nerve and ...
Сторінка 41
... true heroic art , but of rodomontade . Even in drawing from the Elgin marbles , Haydon fails almost wholly to ex- press the beauties which he enthusiastically perceived , and loses every distinction and every subtlety of the original ...
... true heroic art , but of rodomontade . Even in drawing from the Elgin marbles , Haydon fails almost wholly to ex- press the beauties which he enthusiastically perceived , and loses every distinction and every subtlety of the original ...
Сторінка 50
... true nature , by which the art had for the last hundred years been hampered . And the spirit which animates him is essentially the spirit of delight- delight in the beauty of nature and the vividness of sensa- tion , delight in the ...
... true nature , by which the art had for the last hundred years been hampered . And the spirit which animates him is essentially the spirit of delight- delight in the beauty of nature and the vividness of sensa- tion , delight in the ...
Сторінка 81
... true passions of the soul : 66 ous The sensual life of verse springs warm from the lips of Kean .... Pichu 임 His tongue must seem to have robbed the Hybla bees and left them honeyless ! There is an indescribable gusto in his voice , by ...
... true passions of the soul : 66 ous The sensual life of verse springs warm from the lips of Kean .... Pichu 임 His tongue must seem to have robbed the Hybla bees and left them honeyless ! There is an indescribable gusto in his voice , by ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
admirably afterwards Appendix Bailey beauty beginning brother Brown Byron character Charles Wentworth Dilke charm Coleridge colour couplet Cowden Clarke criticism death delight Dilke effect Elgin marbles Endymion English Eve of St eyes fancy Fanny Brawne feel Forman friends genius George Keats Greek Hampstead Haydon heart Houghton MSS human Hunt's Hyperion imagination instinct Isabella Jennings John Hamilton Reynolds John Keats Keats's Lamia Leigh Hunt letter lines literary literature living London Lord Houghton ment Milton mind nature never partly passage passion piece poem poet poet's poetic poetry Reynolds rhyme Rimini romance says seems Severn Shelley sister sonnet soul speak Spenser spirit spring stanza stood story style summer sweet Taylor Teignmouth tell things thou thought tion touch Vale of Health verse vision volume walk Winchester Woodhouse MSS words Wordsworth writes written wrote young
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Сторінка 175 - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness ! Close bosom-friend of the maturing Sun ! Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run ; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core...
Сторінка 167 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy ? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven : We know her woof, her texture ; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Сторінка 23 - 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 217 - But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.
Сторінка 214 - But, for the sake of a few fine imaginative or domestic passages, are we to be bullied into a certain Philosophy engendered in the whims of an Egotist ? Every man has his speculations, but every man does not brood and peacock over them till he makes a false coinage and deceives himself.
Сторінка 171 - 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 159 - Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails: Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries, He passeth by, and his weak spirit fails To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.
Сторінка 152 - Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, Dream, and so dream all night without a stir, Save from one gradual solitary gust Which comes upon the silence, and dies off As if the ebbing air had but one wave...
Сторінка 171 - What little town by river or sea shore, 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 73 - The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing — to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts. Not a select party.