The Poetical Works of John KeatsE. Moxon, 1856 - 256 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 53
Página xxiv
... painful reflections . If this were a completely true repre- sentation , it is evident that those sensuous appetites , and that yearning for enjoyment which has made his poetry the wail and remonstrance of a disinherited Paganism , must ...
... painful reflections . If this were a completely true repre- sentation , it is evident that those sensuous appetites , and that yearning for enjoyment which has made his poetry the wail and remonstrance of a disinherited Paganism , must ...
Página xxxi
... pain without comparison beyond what ' Blackwood ' or the ' Quarterly ' could possibly inflict ; and also when I feel I am right , no external praise can give me such a glow as my own solitary reper- ception and ratification of what is ...
... pain without comparison beyond what ' Blackwood ' or the ' Quarterly ' could possibly inflict ; and also when I feel I am right , no external praise can give me such a glow as my own solitary reper- ception and ratification of what is ...
Página xlii
... pains , and then I wish death away , for death would destroy even those pains , which are better than nothing . Land and sea , weakness and decline , are great separators , but death is the great divorcer for ever . When the pang of ...
... pains , and then I wish death away , for death would destroy even those pains , which are better than nothing . Land and sea , weakness and decline , are great separators , but death is the great divorcer for ever . When the pang of ...
Página xliv
... painful . He spoke of his real life as something passed , and as if he were leading a posthumous existence . It ends with these words : " If I recover , I will do all in my power to correct the mistakes made during sickness , and if I ...
... painful . He spoke of his real life as something passed , and as if he were leading a posthumous existence . It ends with these words : " If I recover , I will do all in my power to correct the mistakes made during sickness , and if I ...
Página 23
... pains He seem'd to taste a drop of manna - dew , Full palatable ; and a colour grew Upon his cheek , while thus he lifeful spake . " Peona ! ever have I long'd to slake My thirst for the world's praises : nothing base , No merely ...
... pains He seem'd to taste a drop of manna - dew , Full palatable ; and a colour grew Upon his cheek , while thus he lifeful spake . " Peona ! ever have I long'd to slake My thirst for the world's praises : nothing base , No merely ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
Apollo Art thou beauty beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE clouds Corinth dark death deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Endymion eyes face faint fair fancy fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven hour Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips look lute Lycius lyre melodies Mermaid Tavern morning mortal muse Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale pass'd passion pleasant pleasure poet RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange streams sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 209 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these?
Página 208 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
Página 216 - Of their sorrows and delights ; Of their passions and their spites ; Of their glory and their shame ; What doth strengthen and what maim. Thus ye teach us, every day, Wisdom, though fled far away. Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth!
Página 148 - As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
Página 182 - Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, grey legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal...
Página 215 - Where's the voice, however soft, One would hear so very oft? At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. Let then winged Fancy find Thee a mistress to thy mind: Dulcet-eyed as Ceres' daughter, Ere the God of Torment taught her How to frown and how to chide; With a waist and with a side White as Hebe's, when her zone Slipt its golden clasp, and down Fell her kirtle to her feet, While she held the goblet sweet, And Jove grew languid. — Break the mesh Of the Fancy's silken...
Página 209 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Página 155 - And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake! Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite: Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake, Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache.
Página 157 - But his sagacious eye an inmate owns: By one, and one, the bolts full easy slide: — The chains lie silent on the footworn stones; The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans. XLII And they are gone: ay, ages long ago 370 These lovers fled away into the storm.
Página 153 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, 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.