The Complete Poetical Works of KeatsHoughton Mifflin Company, 1899 - 473 стор. |
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Сторінка xviii
... morning sending his friend the well - turned sonnet which has been the key that unlocks Chapman to many readers . 6 " These early verses thus are full of Keats's personal history , for he was living in the land of fancy and was ...
... morning sending his friend the well - turned sonnet which has been the key that unlocks Chapman to many readers . 6 " These early verses thus are full of Keats's personal history , for he was living in the land of fancy and was ...
Сторінка 1
... Morning from her orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touch'd a verdant hill ; Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame , Silv'ring the untainted gushes of its rill ; Which , pure from mossy beds , did down distil , And after ...
... Morning from her orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touch'd a verdant hill ; Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame , Silv'ring the untainted gushes of its rill ; Which , pure from mossy beds , did down distil , And after ...
Сторінка 2
... morning . Thou didst die A half - blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate . But this is past : thou art among the stars Of highest Heaven : to the rolling spheres Thou sweetly singest : nought thy hymning mars , Above the ingrate world ...
... morning . Thou didst die A half - blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate . But this is past : thou art among the stars Of highest Heaven : to the rolling spheres Thou sweetly singest : nought thy hymning mars , Above the ingrate world ...
Сторінка 19
... morning sunbeams to the great Apollo Like a fresh sacrifice ; or , if I can bear The o'erwhelming sweets , ' t will bring to me the fair Visions of all places : a bowery nook Will be elysium an eternal book - Whence I may copy many a ...
... morning sunbeams to the great Apollo Like a fresh sacrifice ; or , if I can bear The o'erwhelming sweets , ' t will bring to me the fair Visions of all places : a bowery nook Will be elysium an eternal book - Whence I may copy many a ...
Сторінка 20
... make The morning precious : beauty was awake ! Why were ye not awake ? But ye were dead To things ye knew not of , wed -were closely Between two hills . All hail , delightful Lifted to 20 EARLY POEMS CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE.
... make The morning precious : beauty was awake ! Why were ye not awake ? But ye were dead To things ye knew not of , wed -were closely Between two hills . All hail , delightful Lifted to 20 EARLY POEMS CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE.
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Albert Auranthe beauty breath bright brother Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE clouds cold Conrad dark DEAR death delight Dilke dost doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes faint fair fancy FANNY FANNY BRAWNE fear feel flowers gentle George George Keats Gersa Glocester golden green Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS JOHN KEATS Keats's kiss lady Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt Letters and Literary light lines lips look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph morning mortal never night o'er Otho pain pale pass'd passion pleasant pleasure poem poetry Reynolds round seem'd sigh Sigifred silent sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spirit sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought trees verses voice wings wonder write 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...