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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 dost doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Gersa Glocester golden green grief hand happy head hear heart heaven hour JOHN KEATS Keats kiss lady Lamia leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips look Ludolph lute lyre melodies mighty moon morning mortal Naiad never night nymphs o'er Otho pain pale pass'd 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 stream sweet tears TEIGNMOUTH tell tender thee thine things THOMAS CHATTERTON thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas vex'd voice warm weep whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
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 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.