The Complete Poetical Works of KeatsHoughton Mifflin Company, 1899 - 473 стор. |
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Сторінка vi
... wrote , so the friends created by his life and his poetry may be trusted to know what his imperishable verse is , and yet will handle affectionately even the toys he played with . Although I have endeavored to draw from Keats's letters ...
... wrote , so the friends created by his life and his poetry may be trusted to know what his imperishable verse is , and yet will handle affectionately even the toys he played with . Although I have endeavored to draw from Keats's letters ...
Сторінка xv
... wrote what is almost an autobiography in his letters , we are able to get a tolerably clear notion of his early training and associations , and to follow quite closely the development of his nature after he began to devote him- self to ...
... wrote what is almost an autobiography in his letters , we are able to get a tolerably clear notion of his early training and associations , and to follow quite closely the development of his nature after he began to devote him- self to ...
Сторінка xx
... wrote but few verses . His letters , however , show him immersed in literature and the friendships which with him were so identified with literature , and kept , moreover , in a state of restless- ness by what in homely phrase may be ...
... wrote but few verses . His letters , however , show him immersed in literature and the friendships which with him were so identified with literature , and kept , moreover , in a state of restless- ness by what in homely phrase may be ...
Сторінка xxii
... wrote show how ardently he threw himself into this acquaintance with a new phase of nature . But he was to pass through experiences which entered more profoundly into life . In December of the same year , 1818 , his brother Tom died ...
... wrote show how ardently he threw himself into this acquaintance with a new phase of nature . But he was to pass through experiences which entered more profoundly into life . In December of the same year , 1818 , his brother Tom died ...
Сторінка xxiii
... wrote his last sonnet , with its veiled homage to Fanny Brawne , and in Naples Harbor he wrote to Mrs. Brawne in a feverish mood : ' I dare not fix my mind upon Fanny , I have not dared to think of her . The only comfort I have had that ...
... wrote his last sonnet , with its veiled homage to Fanny Brawne , and in Naples Harbor he wrote to Mrs. Brawne in a feverish mood : ' I dare not fix my mind upon Fanny , I have not dared to think of her . The only comfort I have had that ...
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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...