The Life of Percy Bysshe Shelley, 2. kötetT. C. Newby, 1847 |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 49 találatból.
22. oldal
... deaths , and which Lord Byron thought was clearly borne out by the nature of the retribu- tion of his tormentor , as ... death of Ugolino , and perhaps but for it , would never have written the Prisoner of Chillon . " And speaking of ...
... deaths , and which Lord Byron thought was clearly borne out by the nature of the retribu- tion of his tormentor , as ... death of Ugolino , and perhaps but for it , would never have written the Prisoner of Chillon . " And speaking of ...
71. oldal
... death . Ah ! yes ! I prefer the sweet pains of love , the continual throbbings that accompany , the fear inseparable from it , to a to me stupid calm , and to all the pleasures that can supply the gratification of all other passions ...
... death . Ah ! yes ! I prefer the sweet pains of love , the continual throbbings that accompany , the fear inseparable from it , to a to me stupid calm , and to all the pleasures that can supply the gratification of all other passions ...
72. oldal
... death . Every other sentiment dissimilar from this , than this less pure , deserves not the sacred name of Love ; and they who impiously profane and defile it , shall be punished by that most mighty of Divinities , and shall merit ...
... death . Every other sentiment dissimilar from this , than this less pure , deserves not the sacred name of Love ; and they who impiously profane and defile it , shall be punished by that most mighty of Divinities , and shall merit ...
75. oldal
... Intimation stanga T In accordance with these ideas , Shelley thought that to pass from one state of existence to another , was not death , but a new E 2 LIFE OF SHELLEY . 75 In this doctrine he also developes his favour- ...
... Intimation stanga T In accordance with these ideas , Shelley thought that to pass from one state of existence to another , was not death , but a new E 2 LIFE OF SHELLEY . 75 In this doctrine he also developes his favour- ...
76. oldal
Thomas Medwin. to another , was not death , but a new develop- ment of life ; that we must love as we live , through all eternity ; and that they who have not this persuasion , know nothing of life , no- thing of love ; that they who do ...
Thomas Medwin. to another , was not death , but a new develop- ment of life ; that we must love as we live , through all eternity ; and that they who have not this persuasion , know nothing of life , no- thing of love ; that they who do ...
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admired amore appeared Atheism auto da fé beautiful boat buona Byron says called canto Casti child Conversations Countess Guiccioli Dante death delight divine Divine Comedy Don Juan drama Emilia eyes fame Faust fear feel flowers genius Genoa Göthe grave Greek heard heart Hobhouse Horace Smith hour human Hunt's idea imagination Italian Italy Keats Keats's lady language leave Leghorn Leigh Hunt Lerici less letter ley's light lived looked Lord Byron Lucca melancholy memory ment mind Moore Moore's never night noble notte opinion passage passion perhaps Pisa Plato poem poet poetry pyre Queen Mab Ravenna render Revolt of Islam Rogers Rome sail scarcely scene seems Serchio Shakspeare Shel Shelley says Shelley's shewed sleep soon soul speaking spirit stanza strange tears thee things thou thought tion told translation verses Via Reggio Williams words writing written wrote
Népszerű szakaszok
113. oldal - A pard-like Spirit beautiful and swift — A Love in desolation masked ; — a Power Girt round with weakness ; — it can scarce uplift The weight of the superincumbent hour; It is a dying lamp, a falling shower, A breaking billow ; — even whilst we speak Is it not broken?
318. oldal - Or sculpture, speak in feeble imagery Their own cold powers. Art and eloquence, And all the shows o' the world, are frail and vain To weep a loss that turns their lights to shade. It is a woe 'too deep for tears' when all Is reft at once, when some surpassing Spirit, Whose light adorned the world around it, leaves Those who remain behind, not sobs or groans, The passionate tumult of a clinging hope, — But pale despair and cold tranquillity, Nature's vast frame, the web of human things, Birth and...
183. oldal - Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free : Although a subtler Sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew. Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, The splendour of its prime ; And leave, if nought so bright may live, All earth can take or Heaven can give.
334. oldal - That Light whose smile kindles the Universe, That Beauty in which all things work and move, That Benediction which the eclipsing Curse Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst; now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.
173. oldal - Most musical of mourners, weep again! Lament anew, Urania! — He died, Who was the Sire of an immortal strain, Blind, old, and lonely, when his country's pride The priest, the slave, and the liberticide Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified, Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite Yet reigns o'er earth; the third among the sons of light.
321. oldal - And hears the unexpressive nuptial song In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
325. oldal - Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
183. oldal - Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep Young Cyclads on a sunnier deep. A loftier Argo cleaves the main, Fraught with a later prize ; Another Orpheus sings again, And loves, and weeps, and dies; A new Ulysses leaves once more Calypso for his native shore.
315. oldal - Go thou to Rome, — at once the Paradise, The grave, the city, and the wilderness; And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise, 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 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
113. oldal - Is it not broken ? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly : on a cheek The life can burn in blood even while the heart may break.