Life, Letters, and Literary Remains, of John KeatsG. P. Putnam, 1848 - 393 стор. |
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Сторінка 68
... called knowledge . Many have original minds who do not think it : they are led away by custom . Now it ap- pears to me that almost any man may , like the spider , spin from his own inwards , his own airy citadel . The points of leaves ...
... called knowledge . Many have original minds who do not think it : they are led away by custom . Now it ap- pears to me that almost any man may , like the spider , spin from his own inwards , his own airy citadel . The points of leaves ...
Сторінка 72
... called on Haydon . He said he would do any thing I liked , but said he would rather paint a finished picture from it , which he seems eager to do . This , in a year or two , will be a glorious thing for us ; and it will be , for Haydon ...
... called on Haydon . He said he would do any thing I liked , but said he would rather paint a finished picture from it , which he seems eager to do . This , in a year or two , will be a glorious thing for us ; and it will be , for Haydon ...
Сторінка 74
... called on me . Richards tells me that my Poems are known in the west country , and that he saw a very clever copy of verses headed with a motto from my sonnet to George . Ho- nors rush so thickly upon me that I shall not be able to bear ...
... called on me . Richards tells me that my Poems are known in the west country , and that he saw a very clever copy of verses headed with a motto from my sonnet to George . Ho- nors rush so thickly upon me that I shall not be able to bear ...
Сторінка 106
... called Naiads of the wandering brooks , With your sedged crowns and ever harmless looks , are in the deepest taste of antiquity , and show that all great poets look at themselves and the fine world about them in the same clear and ever ...
... called Naiads of the wandering brooks , With your sedged crowns and ever harmless looks , are in the deepest taste of antiquity , and show that all great poets look at themselves and the fine world about them in the same clear and ever ...
Сторінка 108
... called on Wordsworth , who was not at home , nor was any one of his family . I wrote a note , and left it on the mantel - piece . Thence , on we came to the foot of Helvellyn , where we slept , but could not as- cend it for the mist . I ...
... called on Wordsworth , who was not at home , nor was any one of his family . I wrote a note , and left it on the mantel - piece . Thence , on we came to the foot of Helvellyn , where we slept , but could not as- cend it for the mist . I ...
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affectionate friend Albert Auranthe Bailey beautiful Bertha breathe bright brother Brown Castle Conrad dare DEAR REYNOLDS death delight Dilke doth Elgin Marbles Emperor Endymion Erminia Ethelbert Exeunt eyes fair fame feel flowers genius George George Keats Gersa give Glocester Gonfred Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart Heaven honor hope Hunt Hyperion imagination Isle of Wight JOHN KEATS Keats's lady leave Leigh Hunt letter literary live look Lord Lord Byron Ludolph mind morning nature never night noble numbers Otho pain Paradise Lost pass passion perhaps pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor Port Patrick Prince Severn Shakspeare Sigifred sister sleep soft song Sonnet sort soul speak spirit Staffa sure sweet TEIGNMOUTH tell thee thing thou thought tion to-day truth verse walk wings word Wordsworth write written wrote
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Сторінка 64 - Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Сторінка 171 - A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the...
Сторінка 74 - I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: // Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. // Near them, on the sand, / Half sunk, / a shattered visage lies, / whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, / Tell that its sculptor / well those passions read / Which yet survive, / stamped on these lifeless things, / The hand that mocked them, / and the heart that fed: // And on the pedestal / these words appear: // "My...
Сторінка 68 - I think Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by Singularity — it should strike the Reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a Remembrance — 2nd.
Сторінка 41 - I have never yet been able to perceive how any thing can be known for truth by consecutive reasoning — and yet it must be. Can it be that even the greatest philosopher ever arrived at his goal without putting aside numerous objections. However it may be, O for a Life of sensations rather than of thoughts ! It is 'a vision in the form of youth
Сторінка 141 - I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death. Even as a Matter of present interest the attempt to crush me in the Quarterly has only brought me more into notice, and it is a common expression among book men, " I wonder the Quarterly should cut its own throat.
Сторінка 59 - 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 85 - 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 193 - I have given up Hyperion — there were too many Miltonic inversions in it — Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist's humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up.
Сторінка 82 - I have been hovering for some time between an exquisite sense of the luxurious, and a love for philosophy, — were I calculated for the former, I should be glad. But as I am not, I shall turn all my soul to the latter.