The Complete Poetical Works of John KeatsHoughton, Mifflin, 1900 - 473 páginas |
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Página vii
... LADIES ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL AND A COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES . • • WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR . LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON TO HOPE . 122335 6 8 8 ODE TO APOLLO 10 HYMN TO APOLLO • To A YOUNG LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN ...
... LADIES ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL AND A COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES . • • WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT MR . LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON TO HOPE . 122335 6 8 8 ODE TO APOLLO 10 HYMN TO APOLLO • To A YOUNG LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN ...
Página ix
John Keats. FANCY . TRANSLATION FROM A SONNET OF RONSARD . To A LADY SEEN FOR A FEW MOMENTS AT VAUXHALL . ODE : BARDS OF PASSION AND OF MIRTH 215 215 . 216 . 218 SONG : ' I HAD A DOVE AND THE SWEET DOVE DIED . 219 ODE ON MELANCHOLY ...
John Keats. FANCY . TRANSLATION FROM A SONNET OF RONSARD . To A LADY SEEN FOR A FEW MOMENTS AT VAUXHALL . ODE : BARDS OF PASSION AND OF MIRTH 215 215 . 216 . 218 SONG : ' I HAD A DOVE AND THE SWEET DOVE DIED . 219 ODE ON MELANCHOLY ...
Página 5
... LADIES WHAT though , while the wonders of nature ex- ploring , I cannot your light , mazy footsteps attend ; Nor listen to accents , that almost adoring , Bless Cynthia's face , the enthusiast's friend : Yet over ... LADIES 5 TO SOME LADIES.
... LADIES WHAT though , while the wonders of nature ex- ploring , I cannot your light , mazy footsteps attend ; Nor listen to accents , that almost adoring , Bless Cynthia's face , the enthusiast's friend : Yet over ... LADIES 5 TO SOME LADIES.
Página 6
... LADIES HAST thou from the caves of Golconda , a gem Pure as the ice - drop that froze on the mountain ? Bright as ... lady's bower ? Ah ! courteous Sir Knight , with large joy thou 6 EARLY POEMS ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL AND A COPY ...
... LADIES HAST thou from the caves of Golconda , a gem Pure as the ice - drop that froze on the mountain ? Bright as ... lady's bower ? Ah ! courteous Sir Knight , with large joy thou 6 EARLY POEMS ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL AND A COPY ...
Página 12
... LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN FRESH morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom , - now from gloominess I mount for ever - not an atom less Than 12 EARLY POEMS To A YOUNG LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN.
... LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN FRESH morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom , - now from gloominess I mount for ever - not an atom less Than 12 EARLY POEMS To A YOUNG LADY WHO SENT ME A LAUREL CROWN.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN KEATS: Ode on a Grecian Urn, Ode to a ... John Keats Vista previa limitada - 2023 |
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF JOHN KEATS: Ode on a Grecian Urn, Ode to a ... John Keats Vista previa limitada - 2023 |
Términos y frases comunes
adieu Albert Apollo art thou Auranthe beauty BEN NEVIS bliss breath bright brow censer clouds cold Conrad Corinth dark death deep divine dost doth dream earth Emperor Enceladus Endymion Erminia Ethelbert Exeunt eyes face faery faint fair fear feel feet flowers gentle Gersa Glocester golden Gonfred green hair hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hour Hyperion Imaus kiss lady Lamia leaves light lips look look'd Lord Ludolph lute Lycius lyre melody Mnemosyne moan moon morn mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er Otho pain pale pass'd poor Prince round Saturn seem'd shade sigh Sigifred silent silver sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars stept stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tongue touch'd trembling vex'd voice warm weep whisper wild wind wine wings wonder
Pasajes populares
Página 67 - Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high-piled books, in charact'ry Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
Página 251 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Página 241 - She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew ; And sure in language strange she said,
Página 377 - 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; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Página 221 - She dwells with Beauty - Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd 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.
Página 235 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Página 235 - 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: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Página 220 - But when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, Or on the wealth of globed peonies; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
Página 221 - EVE — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.
Página 252 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...