Poems from Shelley and KeatsMacmillan, 1900 - 221 páginas |
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Página 17
... hands of perfect skill , It keeps its highest , holiest tone For our beloved Jane alone . SONNET LIFT not the painted veil which those who live Call Life : though unreal shapes be pictured there , And it but mimic all we would believe ...
... hands of perfect skill , It keeps its highest , holiest tone For our beloved Jane alone . SONNET LIFT not the painted veil which those who live Call Life : though unreal shapes be pictured there , And it but mimic all we would believe ...
Página 28
... hands , And sustained them with rods and osier bands ; If the flowers had been her own infants she Could never have nursed them more tenderly . And all killing insects and gnawing worms , And things of obscene and unlovely forms , She ...
... hands , And sustained them with rods and osier bands ; If the flowers had been her own infants she Could never have nursed them more tenderly . And all killing insects and gnawing worms , And things of obscene and unlovely forms , She ...
Página 37
... a fond faith ! still dost thou pine ? Still dost thou hope that greeting hands , Voice , looks , or lips , may answer thy demands ? 10 Ah ! wherefore didst thou build thine hope On the TO COLERIDGE 37 336 To Coleridge.
... a fond faith ! still dost thou pine ? Still dost thou hope that greeting hands , Voice , looks , or lips , may answer thy demands ? 10 Ah ! wherefore didst thou build thine hope On the TO COLERIDGE 37 336 To Coleridge.
Página 48
... hands in ecstasy ! 60 VI I vowed that I would dedicate my powers To thee and thine have I not kept the vow ? With beating heart and streaming eyes , even now I call the phantoms of a thousand hours Each from his voiceless grave : they ...
... hands in ecstasy ! 60 VI I vowed that I would dedicate my powers To thee and thine have I not kept the vow ? With beating heart and streaming eyes , even now I call the phantoms of a thousand hours Each from his voiceless grave : they ...
Página 79
... hand that mocked them and the heart that fed : And on the pedestal these words appear : ' My name is Ozymandias , king of kings : Look on my works , ye Mighty , and despair ! ' Nothing beside remains . Round the decay Of that colossal ...
... hand that mocked them and the heart that fed : And on the pedestal these words appear : ' My name is Ozymandias , king of kings : Look on my works , ye Mighty , and despair ! ' Nothing beside remains . Round the decay Of that colossal ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Poems From Shelley and Keats (Classic Reprint) Percy Bysshe Shelley Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
POEMS FROM SHELLEY & KEATS Percy Bysshe 1792-1822 Shelley,John 1795-1821 Keats,Sidney Carleton 1863- Ed Newsom Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Adonais Agnes ARETHUSA beauty blue breath bright buds clouds cold dark dead death deep delight dost doth Dowden dream earth Endymion English eyes faint fair fled flowers friends gazed gentle gleam golden grass green grief hast heart heaven human John Keats Keats Keats's kissed leaves LECHLADE Leigh Hunt light lips Lorenzo love's lyrical lyrical poetry Merchant of Venice mighty moan Mont Blanc moon morn mountains mourn never night nursling o'er ocean ODE ON MELANCHOLY ODE TO PSYCHE odor OZYMANDIAS pain pale poem poet poetry Porphyro Prometheus Unbound rain rose round Sensitive Plant shadow Shelley Shelley's sighs silent sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit spring stars stream sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought Trelawny veil verse voice wake wander waves weep wild winds wings Wordsworth ΙΟ
Pasajes populares
Página 4 - Teach us, sprite or bird, what sweet thoughts are thine; I have never heard praise of love or wine that panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Página 120 - 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...
Página 124 - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And, happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love!
Página 1 - The pale purple even Melts around thy flight; Like a star of heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight...
Página 12 - If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear ; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee ; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable...
Página 139 - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Página 118 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Página 105 - O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert, Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart Dare the unpastured dragon in his den?
Página 117 - Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.
Página 85 - Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night— Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!