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Könyvek 153 / 1 - 10. könyv a(z) Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain,... kifejezésre.
" Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. "
The poetical works of John Keats - 200. oldal
szerző: John Keats - 1841 - 340 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, 201. kötet

1905
...love-poet's most perfect rhythm was mingled with its notes as he listened to the song, — ' Thou wert not born for death, Immortal Bird, No hungry generations tread thee down.' Amongst the ripples of every stream he caught echoes of Wordsworth's river sonnets, and whether alone,...

The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ...

1820
...thou art pouring forth tby soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have eats in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I heat this passing night, was heard In ancient days by çmperor and clow» : Perhaps the self-same song...

Spirit of the English Magazines, 10. kötet

1821
...midnight with no pain. While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still won lost thou sing, and I have ears in vain—- To thy high...born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations teead thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown...

Time's Telescope for ... ; Or, A Complete Guide to the Almanack

1823
...no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wonldst thou siug, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become...; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In antient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart...

The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken].

Cabinet - 1824
...quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, ' While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such...have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod. VII. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

The Every-day Book: Or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports ...

William Hone - 1827
...cease opon the midnight with no pain, While thou ait pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy 1 Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Г. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., 2. kötet

William Hone - 1830
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...

Abaddon, the Spirit of Destruction: And Other Poems

Sumner Lincoln Fairfield - 1830 - 157 oldal
...himself. What can be more distinct, beautiful, and true, than this address to the nightingale : — " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I heard this passing night, was heard In ancient days, by emperor and clown ; Perhaps the self same song...

Classic tales: designed for the instruction and amusement of young persons

Eliza Robbins, Cairns Collection of American Women Writers - 1833 - 163 oldal
...Keats's sweet description of this poetic warbler. (Her mother gives her a book, and Ann reads.) " Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird ! No hungry...voice I hear this passing night, was heard In ancient clays, by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self same song that found a path Through the sad heart of...

The every-day book and table-book; or, Everlasting calendar of ..., 2. kötet

William Hone - 1837
...cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. 7. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird I No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice...




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