Studies in PoetryDuckworth, 1910 - Всего страниц: 253 |
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Стр. 6
... never breathed that artificial atmosphere . He lived when it brooded , still heavily , on poetry , but he lived above its close and breezeless elements . He was conscious of them , but would have nothing to do with them . ' Let others ...
... never breathed that artificial atmosphere . He lived when it brooded , still heavily , on poetry , but he lived above its close and breezeless elements . He was conscious of them , but would have nothing to do with them . ' Let others ...
Стр. 18
... never been written by a child . It is only sung within . To write it needed a man with the heart of a child ; and to find him is one of the rarest things in the world . We have been driven out of Eden , where we could lie down with the ...
... never been written by a child . It is only sung within . To write it needed a man with the heart of a child ; and to find him is one of the rarest things in the world . We have been driven out of Eden , where we could lie down with the ...
Стр. 26
... never spoke more fiercely of kings and priestcraft , of tyrannic fraud , force and oppression than Blake , full of wrath and menace , did in 1794 , and in the prophetic books . The America , one of these , takes as its theme the War of ...
... never spoke more fiercely of kings and priestcraft , of tyrannic fraud , force and oppression than Blake , full of wrath and menace , did in 1794 , and in the prophetic books . The America , one of these , takes as its theme the War of ...
Стр. 28
... never can work War's o'erthrow . The Hermit's Prayer , the Widow's Tear Alone can free the World from fear . For a Tear is an Intellectual Thing , And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King , And the bitter groan of the Martyr's woe Is an ...
... never can work War's o'erthrow . The Hermit's Prayer , the Widow's Tear Alone can free the World from fear . For a Tear is an Intellectual Thing , And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King , And the bitter groan of the Martyr's woe Is an ...
Стр. 29
... theory which is still stated , to the shame of those that state it , ' That the poor shall never cease out of the land , and that , if they did , Mercy and Pity would lessen , and Charity have no reason . ' WILLIAM BLAKE 29.
... theory which is still stated , to the shame of those that state it , ' That the poor shall never cease out of the land , and that , if they did , Mercy and Pity would lessen , and Charity have no reason . ' WILLIAM BLAKE 29.
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Æschylus Alastor ballads beauty belongs Blake blank verse Border breathed Byron Celtic child clouds colour County Guy cries delight described dream earth elements Emilia emotion Endymion England English poetry Epipsychidion Eve of St expression eyes fancy feeling felt fire flowers forgiveness hear heart Heaven human Hyperion ideal ideas imagination impulse Keats Lamia land landscape lived loveliness lovers Lowland Marmion mingled Minstrel morality nature never noble pain pass passion past phrase pleasure poem poetic poets praise Prometheus Unbound pure realise romantic sake scenery Scott Shelley Shelley's sing Songs of Experience Songs of Innocence sorrow soul spirit story strange stream sweet swift temper tender tender song thee theme things thou thought tion touch true truth verse weary whole wild wind winged wonder Wordsworth write written wrote youth
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Стр. 223 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease; For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Стр. 17 - I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had...
Стр. 173 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
Стр. 52 - I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not...
Стр. 208 - Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways Made for our searching : yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.
Стр. 172 - The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!
Стр. 106 - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. '"Tell me, thou bonny bird. When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' '"Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' — 'The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave duly. "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
Стр. 14 - THE sun descending in the west The evening star does shine, The birds are silent in their nest And I must seek for mine, The moon, like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight Sits and smiles on the night...
Стр. 114 - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well : For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; Despite those titles, power and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored and unsung.
Стр. 222 - Happiness. I look not for it if it be not in the present hour. Nothing startles me beyond the Moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights, or if a Sparrow come before my Window, I take part in its existence and pick about the Gravel.