The Poetical Works of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats: Complete in One Volume |
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Стр. 7
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd , That never thou dost sport along the
glade ? And ( most unlike the nature of things young ) That earthward still thy
moveless head is hung ? Do thy prophetic fears anticipate , Meek Child of Misery
! thy ...
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd , That never thou dost sport along the
glade ? And ( most unlike the nature of things young ) That earthward still thy
moveless head is hung ? Do thy prophetic fears anticipate , Meek Child of Misery
! thy ...
Стр. 8
And loud lewd Mirth , to anguish close allied : But if , like me , through life's
distressful scene , Till Frenzy , fierce - eyed child of moping pain , Lonely and sad
, thy pilgrimage hath been ; Darts her hot lightning flash athwart the brain . And if
thy ...
And loud lewd Mirth , to anguish close allied : But if , like me , through life's
distressful scene , Till Frenzy , fierce - eyed child of moping pain , Lonely and sad
, thy pilgrimage hath been ; Darts her hot lightning flash athwart the brain . And if
thy ...
Стр. 9
It was some Spirit , SHERIDAN ! that breathed Their mild and manliest
melancholy lent O'er thy young mind such wildly various power ! A mingled
charm , such as the pang consign'd My soul hath mark'd thee in her shaping hour
, To slumber ...
It was some Spirit , SHERIDAN ! that breathed Their mild and manliest
melancholy lent O'er thy young mind such wildly various power ! A mingled
charm , such as the pang consign'd My soul hath mark'd thee in her shaping hour
, To slumber ...
Стр. 11
But Love , who heard the silence of my thought , Contrived a too successful wile ,
I ween : And whisper'd to himself , with malice fraught- Too long our Slave the
Damsel's smiles hath seen : Tomorrow shall he ken her alter'd mien ! " He spake
...
But Love , who heard the silence of my thought , Contrived a too successful wile ,
I ween : And whisper'd to himself , with malice fraught- Too long our Slave the
Damsel's smiles hath seen : Tomorrow shall he ken her alter'd mien ! " He spake
...
Стр. 14
O Fiends of Superstition ! not that oft His countenance settles ; a sosit solemn
bliss The erring Priest hath stain'd with brother's blood Swims in his eye - his
swimming eye upraised : Your grisly idols , not for this may wrath And Faith's
whole ...
O Fiends of Superstition ! not that oft His countenance settles ; a sosit solemn
bliss The erring Priest hath stain'd with brother's blood Swims in his eye - his
swimming eye upraised : Your grisly idols , not for this may wrath And Faith's
whole ...
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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 |