The Poetical Works of John Keats Given from His Own Editions and Other Authentic Sources and Collated with Many Manuscripts, Volum 2J. B. Lippincott Company, 1891 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
aching Agnes Apollo art thou Bag-pipe beauty bliss blush breath bright canst censer cheek clouds cold Corinth dark death deep divine doth dream DUSKETHA earth Elgin Marbles Enceladus eternal eyes face fade faery fair fear feet flowers GEORGE KEATS gloom Goddess golden green hair hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven Hermes hour Hyperion John Hamilton Reynolds kiss'd Lamia leave light lips listen look look'd lute Lycius lyre Madeline marble melody Mermaid Tavern Mnemosyne moan moon morn mortal Muse Naiad never night numbers nymph o'er once pain pale pass'd Phorcus Porphyro rose SALAMANDER Saturn seem'd shade shadow sick sigh silent silver sing sleep soft song SONNET sorrow soul spake Spirit stars stood sweet tears tell Thea thee thine thing thou art thought thunder tongue touch'd trees tremble voice warm weep wings ZEPHYR
Passatges populars
Pàgina 282 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too...
Pàgina 268 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
Pàgina 270 - 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!
Pàgina 268 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Pàgina 261 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Pàgina 226 - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine — Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
Pàgina 271 - 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...
Pàgina 269 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas in faery lands forlorn.
Pàgina 282 - Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind...
Pàgina 260 - No uttered syllable, or, woe betide ! But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side ; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.