The Poetical Works of John Keats: Chronologically Arranged and Edited, with a MemoirBell, 1914 - 498 pagini |
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Pagina v
... Hope To Specimen of an Induction to a Poem Calidore . A Fragment " Woman ! when I behold thee flippant , vain " " I stood tiptoe upon a little hill " Sleep and Poetry On Lines Epistle to George Felton Mathew Epistle to my brother George ...
... Hope To Specimen of an Induction to a Poem Calidore . A Fragment " Woman ! when I behold thee flippant , vain " " I stood tiptoe upon a little hill " Sleep and Poetry On Lines Epistle to George Felton Mathew Epistle to my brother George ...
Pagina xix
... - days ) appeared disposed to criticise rather than admire . But criticism troubled him little in the cheerful , hope- ful , state of mind he then enjoyed . His health could not have been bad , for he signalized himself JOHN KEATS . X1X.
... - days ) appeared disposed to criticise rather than admire . But criticism troubled him little in the cheerful , hope- ful , state of mind he then enjoyed . His health could not have been bad , for he signalized himself JOHN KEATS . X1X.
Pagina xx
... hope- fully than events justified . The best proof that his dissipation was , as he expressed it , a little too much rollicking , " and nothing more , is to be found in the character of his immediate associates and in his intellectual ...
... hope- fully than events justified . The best proof that his dissipation was , as he expressed it , a little too much rollicking , " and nothing more , is to be found in the character of his immediate associates and in his intellectual ...
Pagina xxvi
... hope that he should soon earn enough to place both at ease . His voluntary payment of his brother's debts , after his death , including what had been advanced by Mr. Brown , certainly showed no niggard spirit ; and in America he bore ...
... hope that he should soon earn enough to place both at ease . His voluntary payment of his brother's debts , after his death , including what had been advanced by Mr. Brown , certainly showed no niggard spirit ; and in America he bore ...
Pagina xxvii
... hope of happiness when I shall be well ; I am now so weak that I can be flattered into hope . " 66 The spring brought with it a renewal of health and strength ; and in March he wrote that he was picking up flesh , and , if he could keep ...
... hope of happiness when I shall be well ; I am now so weak that I can be flattered into hope . " 66 The spring brought with it a renewal of health and strength ; and in March he wrote that he was picking up flesh , and , if he could keep ...
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adieu Albert Apollo Art thou Auranthe beauty beneath bliss bower breast breath bright CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE clouds Conrad cool dark death delight divine dost doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Gersa Glocester golden green grief hand happy hast hear heart heaven hour JOHN KEATS Keats kiss lady Lamia leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips look look'd Ludolph lute lyre melody moon morning mortal Naiad never night nymphs o'er Otho pain pale pass'd pinions pleasant poesy poet rill ring-dove round Saturn seem'd shade sigh Sigifred silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars strange sweet tears TEIGNMOUTH tell tender thee thine things THOMAS CHATTERTON thou art thought trees trembling twas vex'd voice warm weep Whence whispering wild wind wings wonder young youth
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Pagina 240 - 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?
Pagina 241 - Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
Pagina 235 - 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...
Pagina 238 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Pagina 73 - ... 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!
Pagina 71 - My spirit is too weak— mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the cloudy winds to keep, Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Pagina 234 - To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Pagina 312 - Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor. But no — already had his death-bell rung; The joys of all his life were said and sung; His was harsh penance on St Agnes...
Pagina 325 - With a huge empty flagon by his side : The wakeful bloodhound rose, and shook his hide, 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. And they are gone : ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm.
Pagina 239 - 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, and the fruit-tree wild...