The complete poetical works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Том 3 |
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The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Том 3 Percy Bysshe Shelley Полный просмотр - 1898 |
The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Том 3 Percy Bysshe Shelley Полный просмотр - 1892 |
The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Том 3 Percy Bysshe Shelley Полный просмотр - 1881 |
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Apennine Archy art thou beams beauty beneath blast blood bosom breast breath bright calm cave cavern chidden child Chorus clouds cold Cyclops Cyprian Dæmon dark dead dear death deep delight Demon divine dost dream earth eternal eyes faint fair Faust fear fierce flowers gentle glory golden grave green grief hast hear heart heaven Hermes hour Jove King Lady leaves Leigh Hunt Lerici light living Lord lyre melody Mephistopheles mighty mind Mont Blanc moon mortal mountains never night o'er ocean Onchestus pale passed Pisa plectrum poem Pylos rain rocks round SEMICHORUS Serchio shadow Shelley Shelley's shore Silenus sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit star Strafford stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne Ulysses veil Via Reggio voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings
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Стр. 73 - sad satiety. XVII. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, \ Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? XVIII. We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter xix. Yet, if we could scorn Hate and pride and fear, If we were things
Стр. 69 - IV. 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. And I laugh to see them whirl and flee
Стр. 65 - wander down Into the clouds of the Atlantic even ; VI. I am the eye with which the universe Beholds itself, and knows itself divine; All harmony of instrument or verse, All prophecy, all medicine, are mine, All light of Art or Nature ;—to my song Victory and praise in its own right belong.
Стр. 48 - 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 • Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill;
Стр. 72 - XI. Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. XII. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers,—
Стр. 12 - I was not heard, I saw them not; When, musing deeply on the lot Of life, at that sweet time when winds are wooing All vital things that wake to bring News of birds and blossoming, Sudden thy shadow fell on me :— I shrieked, and clasped my hands in
Стр. 108 - ill. When hearts have once mingled, Love first leaves the well-built nest; The weak one is singled To endure what it once possessed. O Love, who bewailest The frailty of all things here, Why chose you the frailest For your cradle, your home, and your bier
Стр. 108 - No song but sad dirges, Like the wind in a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. ill. When hearts have once mingled, Love first leaves the well-built nest; The weak one is singled To endure what it once possessed. O Love, who bewailest The frailty of all things here, Why
Стр. 67 - II. There grew pied wind-flowers and violets; Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets ; Faint oxlips ; tender bluebells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved ; and that tall flower that wetsLike a child, half in tenderness and mirth— Its mother's face with
Стр. 235 - LXXVI. TO THE MOON. ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth,Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,— And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy