The Poetical Works of John Keats Given from His Own Editions and Other Authentic Sources and Collated with Many Manuscripts, 2. kötetJ. B. Lippincott Company, 1891 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 18 találatból.
222. oldal
... dead , save me , " And I neglect the holy rite for thee . " Even as you list invite your many guests ; 90 95 " But if , as now it seems , your vision rests " With any pleasure on me , do not bid " Old Apollonius — from him keep me hid ...
... dead , save me , " And I neglect the holy rite for thee . " Even as you list invite your many guests ; 90 95 " But if , as now it seems , your vision rests " With any pleasure on me , do not bid " Old Apollonius — from him keep me hid ...
233. oldal
... dead , And straight all flush'd ; so , lisped tenderly , " Lorenzo ! " - here she ceas'd her timid quest , But in her tone and look he read the rest . VIII . " O Isabella , I can half perceive " That I may speak my grief into thine ear ...
... dead , And straight all flush'd ; so , lisped tenderly , " Lorenzo ! " - here she ceas'd her timid quest , But in her tone and look he read the rest . VIII . " O Isabella , I can half perceive " That I may speak my grief into thine ear ...
234. oldal
... dead , Too many doleful stories do we see , Whose matter in bright gold were best be read ; Except in such a page where Theseus ' spouse Over the pathless waves towards him bows . XIII . But , for the general award of love , The little ...
... dead , Too many doleful stories do we see , Whose matter in bright gold were best be read ; Except in such a page where Theseus ' spouse Over the pathless waves towards him bows . XIII . But , for the general award of love , The little ...
245. oldal
... dead , Pale Isabella kiss'd it , and low moan'd . ' Twas love ; cold , -dead indeed , but not dethron'd . LI . In anxious secrecy they took it home , And then the prize was all for Isabel : She calm'd its wild hair with a golden comb ...
... dead , Pale Isabella kiss'd it , and low moan'd . ' Twas love ; cold , -dead indeed , but not dethron'd . LI . In anxious secrecy they took it home , And then the prize was all for Isabel : She calm'd its wild hair with a golden comb ...
247. oldal
... dead : She withers , like a palm Cut by an Indian for its juicy balm . LVII . O leave the palm to wither by itself ; Let not quick Winter chill its dying hour ! - It may not be those Baälites of pelf , 1 Her brethren , noted the ...
... dead : She withers , like a palm Cut by an Indian for its juicy balm . LVII . O leave the palm to wither by itself ; Let not quick Winter chill its dying hour ! - It may not be those Baälites of pelf , 1 Her brethren , noted the ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
aching Agnes Apollo art thou Bag-pipe beauty bliss blush breath bright canst censer cheek clouds cold Corinth dark death deep divine doth dream DUSKETHA earth Elgin Marbles Enceladus eternal eyes face fade faery fair fear feet flowers GEORGE KEATS gloom Goddess golden green hair hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven Hermes hour Hyperion John Hamilton Reynolds kiss'd Lamia leave light lips listen look look'd lute Lycius lyre Madeline marble melody Mermaid Tavern Mnemosyne moan moon morn mortal Muse Naiad never night numbers nymph o'er once pain pale pass'd Phorcus Porphyro rose SALAMANDER Saturn seem'd shade shadow sick sigh silent silver sing sleep soft song SONNET sorrow soul spake Spirit stars stood sweet tears tell Thea thee thine thing thou art thought thunder tongue touch'd trees tremble voice warm weep wings ZEPHYR
Népszerű szakaszok
282. oldal - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too...
268. 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!
270. oldal - 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! 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!
268. 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...
261. oldal - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
226. 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-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
271. oldal - O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed ; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity...
269. oldal - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas in faery lands forlorn.
282. oldal - 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...
260. oldal - No uttered syllable, or, woe betide ! But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side ; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.