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arms beauty beneath bliss blue breast breath bright clear close clouds cold cool dark dead death deep delight divine doth dream earth Endymion eyes face faint fair fear feel feet felt flowers forest gentle give golden gone green grief hair hand happy hast head hear heard heart heaven hour human keep kiss leaves light lips live look morning mortal never night o'er once pain pale pass passion pleasant pleasure poor rest rose round seen shade side sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood strange streams sure sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou thought thousand took trees trembling voice warm weep wide wild wind wings wonders young youth
Сторінка 104 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Сторінка 114 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Сторінка 107 - 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 109 - 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 ! FANCY.
Сторінка 38 - Give me that voice again, my Porphyro, Those looks immortal, those complainings dear! Oh leave me not in this eternal woe, For if thou diest, my Love, I know not where to go.
Сторінка 64 - Or shall the tree be envious of the dove Because it cooeth, and hath snowy wings To wander wherewithal and find its joys ? We are such forest-trees, and our fair boughs Have bred forth, not pale solitary doves, But eagles golden-feather'd, who do tower Above us in their beauty, and must reign In right thereof; for 'tis the eternal law That first in beauty should be first in might : Yea, by that law, another race may drive Our conquerors to mourn as we do now.
Сторінка 115 - While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Сторінка 33 - Which was, to lead him, in close secrecy, Even to Madeline's chamber, and there hide Him in a closet, of such privacy...
Сторінка 129 - 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...