The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: Including Various Additional Pieces from Ms. and Other Sources, Том 2E. Moxon, 1870 |
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Стр. 2
... soon as the profits of the publication come in , I mean to hire lodgings in a more respectable street . PROLOGUE . PETER BELLS , one , two , and three , O'er the wide world wandering be.— First , the antenatal Peter , Wrapped in weeds ...
... soon as the profits of the publication come in , I mean to hire lodgings in a more respectable street . PROLOGUE . PETER BELLS , one , two , and three , O'er the wide world wandering be.— First , the antenatal Peter , Wrapped in weeds ...
Стр. 23
... soon as in his song they spy The folly which soothes tyranny , Praise him , for those who feed ' em . XXXIV . He was a man too great to scan ; A planet lost in truth's keen rays ; His virtue , awful and prodigious ; He was the most ...
... soon as in his song they spy The folly which soothes tyranny , Praise him , for those who feed ' em . XXXIV . He was a man too great to scan ; A planet lost in truth's keen rays ; His virtue , awful and prodigious ; He was the most ...
Стр. 24
... Soon as he read the ode , he drove To his friend Lord Mac Murderchouse's , A man of interest in both houses , And said : - " For money or for love , 11 . " Pray find some cure , or sinecure , To feed from the superfluous taxes A friend ...
... Soon as he read the ode , he drove To his friend Lord Mac Murderchouse's , A man of interest in both houses , And said : - " For money or for love , 11 . " Pray find some cure , or sinecure , To feed from the superfluous taxes A friend ...
Стр. 25
... soon struck into The very life and soul of Peter . He walked about - slept - had the hue Of health upon his cheeks - and few Dug better - none a heartier eater : - X. And yet a strange and horrid curse Clung upon Peter , night and day ...
... soon struck into The very life and soul of Peter . He walked about - slept - had the hue Of health upon his cheeks - and few Dug better - none a heartier eater : - X. And yet a strange and horrid curse Clung upon Peter , night and day ...
Стр. 38
... soon ; I have driven her close to you under the moon . Night and day , hum ! hum ! ha ! I have hummed her and drummed her From place to place , till at last I have dumbed her . Hum ! hum ! hum ! I will suck Blood or muck . LEECH . The ...
... soon ; I have driven her close to you under the moon . Night and day , hum ! hum ! ha ! I have hummed her and drummed her From place to place , till at last I have dumbed her . Hum ! hum ! hum ! I will suck Blood or muck . LEECH . The ...
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Ahasuerus Apennine art thou beams beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath bright calm cave cavern chidden Chorus clouds cold Cyclops Cyprian Dæmon dark dead death deep delight divine dost dream earth eternal eyes faint Faust fear fire fled flowers gentle Gisborne glory golden grave Greece green hear heart heaven hope Iona King kiss Lady leaves Leigh Hunt Lerici light living Lord Lord Byron Mahmud melody Mephistopheles mighty moon morning mortal mountains Naples never night nursling o'er ocean pale Peter Bell Pisa poem Pyrganax rain round ruin SEMICHORUS shadow Shelley Shelley's Silenus sleep smile soft song Sophia Stacey sorrow soul sound spirit splendour stanza stars storm stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne Tmolus tower Ulysses veil verse voice wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings words
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Стр. 207 - Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year...
Стр. 295 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Стр. 210 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright ; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how ? — To thy chamber- window, sweet ! The wandering airs, they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The champak odors fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream ; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine, O, beloved as thou art!
Стр. 237 - 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 I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Стр. 183 - Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.
Стр. 105 - Oh, not of him, but of our joy: 'tis nought That ages, empires, and religions there Lie buried in the ravage they have wrought; For such as he can lend, — they borrow not Glory from those who made the world their prey; And he is gathered to the kings of thought Who waged contention with their time's decay, And of the past are all that cannot pass away.
Стр. 237 - 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...
Стр. 104 - His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there All new successions to the forms they wear; Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight To its own likeness, as each mass may bear; And bursting in its beauty and its might From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven's light...
Стр. 138 - Oh, cease! must hate and death return ? Cease! must men kill and die? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
Стр. 240 - Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.