The Complete Poetical Works of KeatsHoughton Mifflin Company, 1899 - 473 стор. |
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Сторінка viii
... GONE AND ALL ITS SWEETS ARE GONE ' LINES TO FANNY . TO FANNY : ' I CRY YOUR MERCY- PITY - LOVE - AY , LOVE ! ' THE CAP AND BELLS ; OR , JEALOUSIES • · · 214 214 215 THE . 216 • . 232 III . WRITTEN WHERE BURNS WAS BORN . 121 THE LAST ...
... GONE AND ALL ITS SWEETS ARE GONE ' LINES TO FANNY . TO FANNY : ' I CRY YOUR MERCY- PITY - LOVE - AY , LOVE ! ' THE CAP AND BELLS ; OR , JEALOUSIES • · · 214 214 215 THE . 216 • . 232 III . WRITTEN WHERE BURNS WAS BORN . 121 THE LAST ...
Сторінка xxi
... gone by turns to ancient mythology and medieval romance for his themes , and have treated both in a spirit of romance , was due to a large artistic endowment , which bade him see both nature and humanity as subjects for composition ...
... gone by turns to ancient mythology and medieval romance for his themes , and have treated both in a spirit of romance , was due to a large artistic endowment , which bade him see both nature and humanity as subjects for composition ...
Сторінка xxii
... gone , and all its sweets are gone . ' - The letters contain infrequent allusions , except of course the posthumously pub- lished letters to the lady herself . But with this overmastering passion to reckon with , the student of Keats ...
... gone , and all its sweets are gone . ' - The letters contain infrequent allusions , except of course the posthumously pub- lished letters to the lady herself . But with this overmastering passion to reckon with , the student of Keats ...
Сторінка 16
... gone by , and both to heaven up- flown , 149 To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne . So did he feel , who pull'd the boughs aside , That we might look into a forest wide , To catch a glimpse of Fauns , and Dryades Coming with ...
... gone by , and both to heaven up- flown , 149 To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne . So did he feel , who pull'd the boughs aside , That we might look into a forest wide , To catch a glimpse of Fauns , and Dryades Coming with ...
Сторінка 17
... gone , To search for thee , divine Endymion ! He was a Poet , sure a lover too , Who stood on Latmus ' top , what time there blew Soft breezes from the myrtle vale below ; And brought in faintness solemn , sweet , and slow A hymn from ...
... gone , To search for thee , divine Endymion ! He was a Poet , sure a lover too , Who stood on Latmus ' top , what time there blew Soft breezes from the myrtle vale below ; And brought in faintness solemn , sweet , and slow A hymn from ...
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affectionate Brother JOHN Albert Auranthe beautiful BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON breath bright Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE clouds Conrad dark DEAR death delight Dilke doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes fair FANNY FANNY BRAWNE fear feel flowers friend JOHN KEATS gentle George Gersa give Glocester Hampstead hand happy hast Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Keats's kiss lady Lamia leave light lines lips live look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph mind morning never night numbers o'er Otho pain pleasant pleasure poem Poetry poor Reynolds seem'd sigh Sigifred silent sister sleep soft song sonnet soul spirit sweet tears Teignmouth tell thee thine thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought trees verses voice walk Wentworth Place wings words write written young
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Сторінка 211 - Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Сторінка 133 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Сторінка 143 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice 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 Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Сторінка 154 - 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 143 - 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!
Сторінка 143 - 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 39 - Of unreflecting love: — then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
Сторінка 125 - She dwells with Beauty - Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Сторінка 230 - 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, Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors — No — yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair Love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in...
Сторінка 143 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild...