Letters of John Keats to His Family and FriendsMacmillan and Company, 1891 - 377 стор. |
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Сторінка 31
... Believe me , my dear Reynolds , one of my chief layings- up is the pleasure I shall have in showing it to you , I may now say , in a few days . I have heard twice from my Brothers , they are going on very well , and send their ...
... Believe me , my dear Reynolds , one of my chief layings- up is the pleasure I shall have in showing it to you , I may now say , in a few days . I have heard twice from my Brothers , they are going on very well , and send their ...
Сторінка 32
... believe that he will take fire at the sight of your Picture and set about things . If he can get ready in time to return to town with me , which will be in a few days - I will bring him to you . You will be glad to hear that within ...
... believe that he will take fire at the sight of your Picture and set about things . If he can get ready in time to return to town with me , which will be in a few days - I will bring him to you . You will be glad to hear that within ...
Сторінка 54
... believe - Not thus speaking with any poor vanity that works of genius were the first things in this world . No ! for that sort of probity and disinterestedness which such men as Bailey possess , does hold and grasp the tiptop of any ...
... believe - Not thus speaking with any poor vanity that works of genius were the first things in this world . No ! for that sort of probity and disinterestedness which such men as Bailey possess , does hold and grasp the tiptop of any ...
Сторінка 56
... believe because it was not near me for I cannot find it , and my conscience presses heavy on me for not sending it . You would have had one last Thursday , but I was called away , and have been about somewhere ever since . Where ? What ...
... believe because it was not near me for I cannot find it , and my conscience presses heavy on me for not sending it . You would have had one last Thursday , but I was called away , and have been about somewhere ever since . Where ? What ...
Сторінка 64
... a kind of pleasure thermometer , and is my first step towards the chief attempt in the drama . The playing of different natures with joy and Sorrow Do me this favour , and believe me Your sincere 64 [ 1818 LETTERS OF JOHN KEATS.
... a kind of pleasure thermometer , and is my first step towards the chief attempt in the drama . The playing of different natures with joy and Sorrow Do me this favour , and believe me Your sincere 64 [ 1818 LETTERS OF JOHN KEATS.
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Загальні терміни та фрази
affectionate Brother JOHN affectionate friend JOHN beautiful Ben Nevis BENJAMIN BAILEY BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON Book Brown called Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE copy delightful Devonshire Dilke dined Endymion eyes FANNY KEATS feel friend JOHN KEATS George give glad Hampstead happy Haslam Hazlitt head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt idea Imagination Isle Isle of Wight JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Lady lately leave Leigh Hunt letter Little Britain live look Miles mind Miss morning Mountains never night perhaps pleasant pleasure Poem poet Poetry poor Port Patrick pretty remember Rice seen Shakspeare sincere friend JOHN sister sonnet soon sort soul speak spirit talk TAYLOR Teignmouth tell thee thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought to-day to-morrow town trees walk Wentworth Place wish word Wordsworth write written wrote yesterday young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 235 - How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.
Сторінка 207 - BARDS of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth ! Have ye souls in heaven too, Double-lived in regions new ? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the spheres of sun and moon ; With the noise of fountains wond'rous, And the parle of voices thund'rous ; With the whisper of heaven's trees And one another, in soft ease...
Сторінка 258 - So let me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours ! Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged censer teeming : Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouth'd prophet dreaming. Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane In some untrodden region of my mind...
Сторінка 259 - 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!
Сторінка 25 - But we are spirits of another sort. I with the morning's love have oft made sport ; And, like a forester, the groves may tread, Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams.
Сторінка 168 - The Genius of Poetry must work out its own salvation in a man. It cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself. That which is creative must create itself.
Сторінка 48 - 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 167 - Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the 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...
Сторінка 105 - Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian ? or thy smiles Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, By bards who died content on pleasant sward, Leaving great verse unto a little clan ? O, give me their old vigour, and unheard Save of the quiet Primrose, and the span Of heaven and few ears, Rounded by thee, my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day.
Сторінка 69 - Or the seven stars to light you, Or the polar ray to right you; But you never may behold Little John, or Robin bold; Never one, of all the clan, Thrumming on an empty can Some old hunting ditty, while He doth his green way beguile To fair hostess Merriment, Down beside the pasture Trent; For he left the merry tale Messenger for spicy ale.