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 24 találatból.
213. oldal
... Wind into Thetis ' bower by many a pearly stair ; Or where God Bacchus drains his cups divine , Stretch'd out , at ease , beneath a glutinous pine ; Or where in Pluto's gardens palatine Mulciber's columns gleam in far piazzian line ...
... Wind into Thetis ' bower by many a pearly stair ; Or where God Bacchus drains his cups divine , Stretch'd out , at ease , beneath a glutinous pine ; Or where in Pluto's gardens palatine Mulciber's columns gleam in far piazzian line ...
214. oldal
... wind , and his galley now Grated the quaystones with her brazen prow In port Cenchreas , from Egina isle 225 Fresh anchor'd ; whither he had been awhile To sacrifice to Jove , whose temple there 230 Waits with high marble doors for ...
... wind , and his galley now Grated the quaystones with her brazen prow In port Cenchreas , from Egina isle 225 Fresh anchor'd ; whither he had been awhile To sacrifice to Jove , whose temple there 230 Waits with high marble doors for ...
237. oldal
... wind sung . XXI . These brethren having found by many signs What love Lorenzo for their sister had , And how she lov'd him too , each unconfines His bitter thoughts to other , well nigh mad That he , the servant of their trade designs ...
... wind sung . XXI . These brethren having found by many signs What love Lorenzo for their sister had , And how she lov'd him too , each unconfines His bitter thoughts to other , well nigh mad That he , the servant of their trade designs ...
247. oldal
... winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be Among 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 ...
... winds and low ; For simple Isabel is soon to be Among 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 ...
263. oldal
... wind blows Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet Against the window - panes ; St. Agnes ' moon hath set . XXXVII . ' Tis dark : quick pattereth the flaw - blown sleet : " This is no dream , my bride , my Madeline ! " ' Tis dark ...
... wind blows Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet Against the window - panes ; St. Agnes ' moon hath set . XXXVII . ' Tis dark : quick pattereth the flaw - blown sleet : " This is no dream , my bride , my Madeline ! " ' Tis dark ...
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.