The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume |
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Стр. 3
Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form ! Ye woods ! that wave o'er Avon's
rocky steep , Sublime of thought , and confident of fame , To Fancy's ear sweet is
your murmuring deep ! From vales where Avon winds , the Minstrel * came .
Sunk to the cold earth Otway's famish'd form ! Ye woods ! that wave o'er Avon's
rocky steep , Sublime of thought , and confident of fame , To Fancy's ear sweet is
your murmuring deep ! From vales where Avon winds , the Minstrel * came .
Стр. 8
Shall Slander squatting near Thou journeyest onward tempest - toss'd in thought ;
Spit her cold venom in a dead Man's ear ? Here cheat thy cares ! in generous
visions melt , " Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow And dream of goodness ...
Shall Slander squatting near Thou journeyest onward tempest - toss'd in thought ;
Spit her cold venom in a dead Man's ear ? Here cheat thy cares ! in generous
visions melt , " Twas thine to feel the sympathetic glow And dream of goodness ...
Стр. 15
Such a phalanx ne'er Waked by the wintry night - storm , wet and cold , Measured
firm paces to the calming sound Cow'rst - o'er thy screaming baby ! Rest awhile
Of Spartan flute ! These on the fated day , • Behemoth , in Hebrew , signifies wild
...
Such a phalanx ne'er Waked by the wintry night - storm , wet and cold , Measured
firm paces to the calming sound Cow'rst - o'er thy screaming baby ! Rest awhile
Of Spartan flute ! These on the fated day , • Behemoth , in Hebrew , signifies wild
...
Стр. 18
For lowly was her Birth , Lay with stretch'd limbs ; the others , yet alive , But stiff
and cold , stood motionless , their manes And Heaven had doom'd her early
years to Toil , That pure from Tyranny's least deed , herself Hoar with the frozen
night ...
For lowly was her Birth , Lay with stretch'd limbs ; the others , yet alive , But stiff
and cold , stood motionless , their manes And Heaven had doom'd her early
years to Toil , That pure from Tyranny's least deed , herself Hoar with the frozen
night ...
Стр. 33
... Nor cold , nor stern , my soul ! yet I detest Softly she rose , and lightly stole
along , These scented Rooms , whero , to a gaudy throng , Down the slope
coppice to the woodbine bower , Heaves the proud Harlot her distended breast ,
Whose ...
... Nor cold , nor stern , my soul ! yet I detest Softly she rose , and lightly stole
along , These scented Rooms , whero , to a gaudy throng , Down the slope
coppice to the woodbine bower , Heaves the proud Harlot her distended breast ,
Whose ...
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The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume Samuel Taylor Coleridge Недоступно для просмотра - 2012 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
arms beautiful beneath blood breath bright BUTLER calm child clouds cold comes COUNTESS dare dark dead dear death deep dream earth Enter eyes fair faith fall father fear feel fire flowers follow gentle give green hand hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour human lady leaves light lips living look Lord mind moon morning mother mountains move nature never night o'er OCTAVIO once pain pale pass past peace poor rest round SCENE shadow shape silent sleep smile soon soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood strange stream sweet tears tell TERTSKY thee thine things thou thought truth voice WALLENSTEIN wandering waves wide wild wind wings young youth
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Стр. 210 - I bear light shades for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again 1 dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Стр. 212 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then — as I am listening now.
Стр. 62 - But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made ; Its path was not upon the sea In ripple or in shade.
Стр. 211 - I hang like a roof, The mountains its columns be. The triumphal arch through which I march With hurricane, fire, and snow, When the powers of the air are chained to my chair, Is the million-coloured bow; The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove, While the moist earth was laughing below.
Стр. 65 - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Стр. 211 - That orbed maiden with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer...
Стр. 205 - So sweet, the sense faints picturing them ! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves...
Стр. 205 - ODE TO THE WEST WIND O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow...
Стр. 212 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Стр. 211 - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, An eagle alit one moment may sit In the light of its golden wings. And when sunset may breathe, from the lit sea...
Библиографические данные
| Название | The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume |
| Автор | Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
| Издатель | John Grigg, 1831 |
| Владелец оригинала: | Нью-Йоркская публичная библиотека |
| Оцифровано | 2 янв 2007 |
| Количество страниц | Всего страниц: 607 |
| Экспорт цитаты | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |