Posthumous Poems of Percy Bysshe ShelleyJohn and Henry L. Hunt, 1824 - 415 páginas |
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... 200 201 · 202 204 • To Passage of the Apennines To Mary The Past Song of a Spirit 205 206 207 208 209 • Liberty 210 То 211 The Isle 213 To 214 Time 215 Lines 216 A Song 217 The World's Wanderers A Dirge Lines Dirge for the Year X CONTENTS .
... 200 201 · 202 204 • To Passage of the Apennines To Mary The Past Song of a Spirit 205 206 207 208 209 • Liberty 210 То 211 The Isle 213 To 214 Time 215 Lines 216 A Song 217 The World's Wanderers A Dirge Lines Dirge for the Year X CONTENTS .
Página 74
... Apennine : before me fled The night ; behind me rose the day ; the deep Was at my feet , and Heaven above my head , When a strange trance over my fancy grew Which was not slumber , for the shade it spread Was só transparent , that the ...
... Apennine : before me fled The night ; behind me rose the day ; the deep Was at my feet , and Heaven above my head , When a strange trance over my fancy grew Which was not slumber , for the shade it spread Was só transparent , that the ...
Página 171
... Apennine's shroud of summer snow , And clothed with light of aery gold The mists in their eastern caves uprolled . Day had awakened all things that be , The lark and the thrush and the swallow free , And the milkmaid's song and the ...
... Apennine's shroud of summer snow , And clothed with light of aery gold The mists in their eastern caves uprolled . Day had awakened all things that be , The lark and the thrush and the swallow free , And the milkmaid's song and the ...
Página 172
... Apennines - which lie Islanded in the immeasurable air . " What think you , as she lies in her green cove , Our little sleeping boat is dreaming of ? If morning dreams are true , why I should guess That she was dreaming of our idleness ...
... Apennines - which lie Islanded in the immeasurable air . " What think you , as she lies in her green cove , Our little sleeping boat is dreaming of ? If morning dreams are true , why I should guess That she was dreaming of our idleness ...
Página 205
... year The woodland violets re - appear , All things revive in field or grove , And sky and sea , but two , which move , And for all others , life and love . PASSAGE OF THE APENNINES . LISTEN , listen , Mary MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . 205 To.
... year The woodland violets re - appear , All things revive in field or grove , And sky and sea , but two , which move , And for all others , life and love . PASSAGE OF THE APENNINES . LISTEN , listen , Mary MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . 205 To.
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Términos y frases comunes
Anarchs ANTISTROPHE Apennine art thou Bay of Spezia beams beautiful beneath breast breath bright calm cave cavern chidden CHORUS clouds cold CYCLOPS CYPRIAN DÆMON dance dark dead death deep delight desart divine dread dream earth EPODE eyes faint FAUST fear fire fled flowers folded palm gaze gentle gleam grass green grew grey grief hair hear heart heaven JUSTINA kiss lady leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips living lone look Maddalo MEPHISTOPHELES mighty mind MONT BLANC moon mortal mountains never night o'er ocean pale pinnace rocks round sate scorn shadows shapes SILENUS sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE stars strange stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought Tmolus truth ULYSSES vale veil voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings Witch woods youth
Pasajes populares
Página 162 - I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple sea-weeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown; I sit upon the sands alone; The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion — How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around...
Página 283 - The windings of the dell. — The rivulet, Wanton and wild, through many a green ravine Beneath the forest flowed. Sometimes it fell Among the moss, with hollow harmony Dark and profound. Now on the polished stones It danced ; like childhood, laughing as it went : Then, through the plain in tranquil wanderings crept, Reflecting every herb and drooping bud \ That overhung its quietness.
Página 132 - The wilderness has a mysterious tongue Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild, So solemn, so serene, that man may be, But for such faith, with nature reconciled; Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood By all, but which the wise, and great, and good Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.
Página 5 - I RODE one evening with Count Maddalo Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow Of Adria towards Venice : a bare strand Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand, Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds, Is this ; an uninhabited sea-side, Which the lone fisher, when his nets are dried, Abandons ; and no other object breaks The waste, but one dwarf tree and some few stakes Broken and unrepaired, and the tide makes A narrow space of level sand...
Página 3 - I say that Maddalo is proud, because I can find no other word to express the concentered and impatient feelings which consume him; but it is on his own hopes and affections only that he seems to trample, for in social life no human being can be more gentle, patient, and unassuming than Maddalo. He is cheerful, frank, and witty. His more serious conversation is a sort of intoxication; men are held by it as by a spell.
Página 83 - the world and its mysterious doom "Is not so much more glorious than it was, That I desire to worship those who drew New figures on its false and fragile glass "As the old faded.
Página 272 - His languid limbs. A vision on his sleep There came, a dream of hopes that never yet Had flushed his cheek. He dreamed a veiled maid Sate near him, talking in low solemn tones. Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought...
Página 261 - TO THE MOON ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,— And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy...
Página 89 - So knew I in that light's severe excess The presence of that shape which on the stream Moved, as I moved along the wilderness, "More dimly than a day-appearing dream, The ghost of a forgotten form of sleep ; A light of heaven, whose half-extinguished beam " Through the sick day in which we wake to weep, Glimmers, forever sought, forever lost ; So did that shape its obscure tenour keep " Beside my path, as silent as a ghost...
Página 159 - Winter suddenly was changed to Spring ; And gentle odours led my steps astray, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kibsed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.