The Poetical Works of John KeatsW. Scott, 1885 - Всего страниц: 310 |
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Стр. 11
... sigh that silence heaves . " What more redolent of sweet summer air did Keats ever give us than this- " Here are sweet peas on tiptoe for a flight ; With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white , And taper fingers catching at all ...
... sigh that silence heaves . " What more redolent of sweet summer air did Keats ever give us than this- " Here are sweet peas on tiptoe for a flight ; With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white , And taper fingers catching at all ...
Стр. 32
John Keats. bow is robbed of its mystery ; " and the life he sighs for as late as two years before his death is quite in keeping- " O , for an age so sheltered from annoy , That I may never know how change the moons , Or hear the voice ...
John Keats. bow is robbed of its mystery ; " and the life he sighs for as late as two years before his death is quite in keeping- " O , for an age so sheltered from annoy , That I may never know how change the moons , Or hear the voice ...
Стр. 36
... sigh that silence heaves : For not the faintest motion could be seen Of all the shades that slanted o'er the green . There was wide wand'ring for the greediest eye , To peer about upon variety ; For round the horizon's crystal air to ...
... sigh that silence heaves : For not the faintest motion could be seen Of all the shades that slanted o'er the green . There was wide wand'ring for the greediest eye , To peer about upon variety ; For round the horizon's crystal air to ...
Стр. 40
... sighs , And how they kissed each other's tremulous eyes : The silver lamp - the ravishment - the wonder- The ... sighing of the wind Along the reedy stream ! a half heard strain , 40 · İ STOOD TIPTOÈ .
... sighs , And how they kissed each other's tremulous eyes : The silver lamp - the ravishment - the wonder- The ... sighing of the wind Along the reedy stream ! a half heard strain , 40 · İ STOOD TIPTOÈ .
Стр. 60
... sighs Of the goaded world ; and Kosciusko's , worn By horrid suffrance - mightily forlorn . Petrarch , outstepping from the shady green , Starts at the sight of Laura ; nor can wean His eyes from her sweet face . Most happy they ! For ...
... sighs Of the goaded world ; and Kosciusko's , worn By horrid suffrance - mightily forlorn . Petrarch , outstepping from the shady green , Starts at the sight of Laura ; nor can wean His eyes from her sweet face . Most happy they ! For ...
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Apollo Arethusa Art thou Bacchus beauty behold bliss bosom bower breast breath bright Carian charm chidden clouds cold cool dark dead death deep delight dewy dost doth dream ears earth Elysium Endymion eyes face faint fair Fanny Brawne fear feel flowers forest gentle golden gone green grief hair hand happy heard heart heaven hour Hyperion immortal Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone look lute Lycius lyre Mermaid Tavern moon morning mortal mossy Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale passed passion pleasant poet Porphyro rill ringdove rose round Saturn Satyrs Scylla shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whisper wild wind wings wonders young youth
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Стр. 271 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness!* Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme...
Стр. 269 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
Стр. 271 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Стр. 268 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Стр. 270 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But in embalmed darkness guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Стр. 223 - And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays, To venture so: it fills me with amaze To see thee, Porphyro ! — St. Agnes' Eve ! God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays This very night: good angels her deceive! But let me laugh awhile, — I've mickle time to grieve.
Стр. 269 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Стр. 61 - Made for our searching. Yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils, With the green world they live in ; and clear rills That for themselves a cooling covert make 'Gainst the hot season ; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms ; And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead...
Стр. 229 - And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake ! "Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite: " Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake, "Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache.
Стр. 280 - Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...