The Poetical Works of John Keats: Reprinted from the Original EditionsMacmillan, 1884 - 284 páginas |
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Página 29
... much more would start into his sight- The revelries , and mysteries of night : And should I ever see them , I will tell you Such tales as needs must with amazement spell you . These are the living pleasures of the bard : But EPISTLES . 29.
... much more would start into his sight- The revelries , and mysteries of night : And should I ever see them , I will tell you Such tales as needs must with amazement spell you . These are the living pleasures of the bard : But EPISTLES . 29.
Página 33
... Tell ; The hand of Brutus , that so grandly fell Upon a tyrant's head . Ah ! had I never seen , Or known your kindness , what might I have been ? What my enjoyments in my youthful years , Bereft of all that now my life endears ? And can ...
... Tell ; The hand of Brutus , that so grandly fell Upon a tyrant's head . Ah ! had I never seen , Or known your kindness , what might I have been ? What my enjoyments in my youthful years , Bereft of all that now my life endears ? And can ...
Página 38
... tell what mood is best . I shall as soon pronounce which grace more neatly Trips it before Apollo than the rest . VII . O SOLITUDE ! if I must with thee dwell , Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings ; climb with me the ...
... tell what mood is best . I shall as soon pronounce which grace more neatly Trips it before Apollo than the rest . VII . O SOLITUDE ! if I must with thee dwell , Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings ; climb with me the ...
Página 45
... telling what he sees from native merit . O Poesy ! for thee I hold my pen That am not yet a glorious denizen Of thy wide heaven - Should I rather kneel Upon some mountain - top until I feel A glowing splendour round about me hung , And ...
... telling what he sees from native merit . O Poesy ! for thee I hold my pen That am not yet a glorious denizen Of thy wide heaven - Should I rather kneel Upon some mountain - top until I feel A glowing splendour round about me hung , And ...
Página 50
... lovely labyrinths will be gone , And they shall be accounted poet kings Who simply tell the most heart - easing things . O may these joys be ripe before I die . Will not some say that I presumptuously Have spoken ? 50 SLEEP AND POETRY .
... lovely labyrinths will be gone , And they shall be accounted poet kings Who simply tell the most heart - easing things . O may these joys be ripe before I die . Will not some say that I presumptuously Have spoken ? 50 SLEEP AND POETRY .
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Términos y frases comunes
adieu Apollo art thou beauty behold beneath bliss bower breast breath bright Carian clouds Corinth dark deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Elysium Enceladus Endymion eyes face Faerie Queene faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy hath heard heart heaven Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone lute Lycius lyre melody Mermaid Tavern Mnemosyne morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale pass'd passion Phorcus pleasant pleasure poem Poet rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought touch'd trees trembling twas voice weep wide wild wind wings wonders young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 214 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Página 219 - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreathed trellis of a working brain, With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in ! FANCY.
Página 258 - BRIGHT star ! would I were steadfast as thou art — < Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Página 217 - O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed ; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity...
Página 207 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Página 216 - Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these ? What maidens loth ? What mad pursuit ? What struggle to escape ? What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecstasy ? Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Página 215 - 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-fring'd 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? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Página 212 - And they are gone: ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm. That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe, And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form Of witch, and demon, and large coffinworm. Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform ; The Beadsman, after thousand aves told, For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.
Página 239 - But for the main, here found they covert drear. Scarce images of life, one here, one there, Lay vast and edgeways; like a dismal cirque Of Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor, When the chill rain begins at shut of eve, In dull November, and their chancel vault, The Heaven itself, is blinded throughout night.
Página 215 - To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.