Life of John KeatsW. Scott, 1887 - 217 стор. |
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Сторінка 93
... 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 ; ness . and also , when ...
... 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 ; ness . and also , when ...
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24 Warwick Lane admirable afterwards Agnes already appears April Bacchante Bailey beauty Belle Dame Blackwood Byron character Coleridge Cowden Clarke criticism Dame sans Merci death Diana Dilke dream early Edited by William Endymion English Ernest Rhys ESSAYS Eve of St eyes Fanny Brawne feel friends genius George Keats Grecian hair Hampstead Haydon Hunt's Hyperion Introduction Isabella John Keats Joseph Skipsey Keats wrote Keats's Lamia leave Leigh Hunt letter lines literary live London Lord Houghton lover Magazine Melancholy Milton mind Miss Brawne nature never Nightingale Otho passage passion perhaps phrase poem poet poet's poetic poetry portraits preface published Quarterly Review reader Reynolds rhyme seems sense September Severn Shakespeare Shelley Shelley's sonnet speak Spenser spirit story sweet T. W. Rolleston things Thoreau's thought tion verses volume WALTER SCOTT William Sharp woman words write written youth
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Сторінка 151 - 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 193 - I met a lady in the meads Full beautiful - a faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild.
Сторінка 114 - Bright Star! would I were steadfast as thou art — Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Сторінка 196 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Сторінка 197 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath...
Сторінка 87 - Made for our searching : yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...
Сторінка 197 - I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home. She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self ! Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Сторінка 95 - I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death. Even as a Matter of present interest the attempt to crush me in the Quarterly has only brought me more into notice, and it is a common expression among book men, " I wonder the Quarterly should cut its own throat.
Сторінка 193 - She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew, And sure in language strange she said — "I love thee true!
Сторінка 197 - 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.
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