The poetical works of John Keats. With mem., notes &c, 799. kiadás1874 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 29 találatból.
xiv. oldal
... passionate love , and the loss of his favourite brother , also preyed on his strength . One evening , on returning to his house late outside a stage- coach , he caught a severe chill , and was persuaded to go to bed . He had hardly lain ...
... passionate love , and the loss of his favourite brother , also preyed on his strength . One evening , on returning to his house late outside a stage- coach , he caught a severe chill , and was persuaded to go to bed . He had hardly lain ...
16. oldal
... passionate gushes , Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews . Why linger you so , the wild labyrinth strolling ? Why breathless , unable your bliss to declare ? Ah ! you list to the nightingale's tender condoling , Responsive to ...
... passionate gushes , Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews . Why linger you so , the wild labyrinth strolling ? Why breathless , unable your bliss to declare ? Ah ! you list to the nightingale's tender condoling , Responsive to ...
37. oldal
... sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell Thine ear , and find thy gentle heart ; so well Would passion arm me for the enterprise : ; But ah ! I am no knight whose foeman SONNETS To my Brother George To ******
... sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell Thine ear , and find thy gentle heart ; so well Would passion arm me for the enterprise : ; But ah ! I am no knight whose foeman SONNETS To my Brother George To ******
63. oldal
... passion poesy , glories infinite , Haunt us till they become a cheering light Unto our souls , and bound to us so fast , That , whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast , They always must be with us , or we die . Therefore , ' tis with ...
... passion poesy , glories infinite , Haunt us till they become a cheering light Unto our souls , and bound to us so fast , That , whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast , They always must be with us , or we die . Therefore , ' tis with ...
69. oldal
... Passion their voices cooingly ' mong myrtles , What time thou wanderest at eventide Through sunny meadows , that outskirt the side Of thine enmossed realms : O thou , to whom Broad - leaved fig trees even now foredoom Their ripen'd ...
... Passion their voices cooingly ' mong myrtles , What time thou wanderest at eventide Through sunny meadows , that outskirt the side Of thine enmossed realms : O thou , to whom Broad - leaved fig trees even now foredoom Their ripen'd ...
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adieu Apollo Arethusa Art thou beauty behold beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE clouds cool Corinth dark deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Enceladus Endymion eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone look lute Lycius lyre melodies Mnemosyne moon morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er Ophion pain pale passion pinions pleasant poet rill ringdove rose round Saturn Scylla shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whisper wild wind wings wonders young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
275. oldal - 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'er-brimmed their clammy cells — Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
262. oldal - 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, Clustered around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
40. oldal - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
264. oldal - Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And, happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love! more happy, happy love! For ever warm and still to be enjoyed, For ever panting, and for ever young; All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
261. oldal - Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth. O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim : III.
269. oldal - Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May ; And every leaf, and every flower Pearled with the self-same shower. Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep Meagre from its celled sleep : And the snake, all winter-thin, Cast on sunny bank its skin ; Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see Hatching in the hawthorn -tree. When the hen-bird's wing doth rest Quiet on her mossy nest ; Then the hurry and alarm When the bee-hive casts its swarm ; Acorns ripe down-pattering While the autumn breezes sing.
xvi. oldal - And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
277. oldal - Melancholy has her sovran shrine. Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
224. oldal - Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords, Whose very dogs would execrations howl Against his lineage: not one breast affords Him any mercy, in that mansion foul, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul.
223. oldal - Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores All saints to give him sight of Madeline, But for one moment in the tedious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen; Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss — in sooth such things have been.