The Poetical Works of John KeatsKegan Paul, Trench & Company, 1884 - 349 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 82 találatból.
xii. oldal
... green back the short - lived foam , all hoar , Bursts gradual , with a wayward indolence— which Mr. Ruskin has called " quite perfect , as an example of the modern manner , " and perhaps it was in that southern chalk country of bright ...
... green back the short - lived foam , all hoar , Bursts gradual , with a wayward indolence— which Mr. Ruskin has called " quite perfect , as an example of the modern manner , " and perhaps it was in that southern chalk country of bright ...
xiv. oldal
... green of the Spring . Somehow , a stubble field looks warm , in the same way that some pictures look warm . This struck me so much in my Sunday's walk that I composed upon it . " And then follows the " Season of mists and mellow ...
... green of the Spring . Somehow , a stubble field looks warm , in the same way that some pictures look warm . This struck me so much in my Sunday's walk that I composed upon it . " And then follows the " Season of mists and mellow ...
xvi. oldal
... death , in which he notes " how astonishingly does the chance of leaving this world impress its natural beauties upon us ! Like poor Falstaff , though I do not Most ' babble , ' I think of green fields ; xvi INTRODUCTION.
... death , in which he notes " how astonishingly does the chance of leaving this world impress its natural beauties upon us ! Like poor Falstaff , though I do not Most ' babble , ' I think of green fields ; xvi INTRODUCTION.
xvii. oldal
John Keats William Thomas Arnold. ' babble , ' I think of green fields ; I muse with the greatest affection on every flower I have known from my infancy — their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with a ...
John Keats William Thomas Arnold. ' babble , ' I think of green fields ; I muse with the greatest affection on every flower I have known from my infancy — their shapes and colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with a ...
xxi. oldal
... green enough , no bower divine , Until thou liftedst up thine eyelids fine . And here is the passage in which the identification of the goddess and the moon is carried to the furthest possible point , a passage , moreover , which ...
... green enough , no bower divine , Until thou liftedst up thine eyelids fine . And here is the passage in which the identification of the goddess and the moon is carried to the furthest possible point , a passage , moreover , which ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
adieu art thou beauty beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian censer clouds cold dark delight divine dost doth dream earth Endymion eyes face fair feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy hath heart heaven hour Hyperion Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips look look'd Lord Houghton lute Lycius lyre melody moan moon morn mortal Naiad never night nymph o'er Ode to Psyche once pain pale pass'd pleasant poem poet rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep Sleep and Poetry smile soft song sonnets sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought touch'd trees trembling twas vex'd voice warm weep whispering wild wind wings wonder word young
Népszerű szakaszok
233. oldal - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret...
239. oldal - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreathed trellis of a working brain, With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in ! FANCY.
235. oldal - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
226. oldal - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
232. oldal - 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.
248. oldal - 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...
248. oldal - To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
65. oldal - The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy, but there is a space of life between in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted...
198. oldal - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine— Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-personed Lamia melt into a shade.
233. oldal - 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, and the fruit-tree wild...