Posthumous Poems of Percy Bysshe ShelleyJohn and Henry L. Hunt, 1824 - 415 pàgines |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 41.
Pàgina viii
... fear lest any monument of his ge- nius should escape me , than the wish of presenting nothing but what was complete to the fastidious reader . I feel secure that the Lovers of SHELLEY'S Poetry ( who know how more than any other poet of ...
... fear lest any monument of his ge- nius should escape me , than the wish of presenting nothing but what was complete to the fastidious reader . I feel secure that the Lovers of SHELLEY'S Poetry ( who know how more than any other poet of ...
Pàgina 15
... fear such pain can vex the dead . " What Power delights to torture us ? I know That to myself I do not wholly owe What now I suffer , though in part I may . Alas ! none strewed fresh flowers upon the way Where JULIAN AND MADDALO . 15.
... fear such pain can vex the dead . " What Power delights to torture us ? I know That to myself I do not wholly owe What now I suffer , though in part I may . Alas ! none strewed fresh flowers upon the way Where JULIAN AND MADDALO . 15.
Pàgina 18
... fear , My fancy is o'erwrought - thou art not here . Pale art thou , ' tis most true- -but thou art gone— Thy work is finished ; I am left alone . ** * * * " Nay , was it I who wooed thee to this breast , Which like a serpent thou ...
... fear , My fancy is o'erwrought - thou art not here . Pale art thou , ' tis most true- -but thou art gone— Thy work is finished ; I am left alone . ** * * * " Nay , was it I who wooed thee to this breast , Which like a serpent thou ...
Pàgina 21
... on my dead memory ? " Alas , love ! Fear me not : against thee I'd not move A finger in despite . Do I not live That thou mayst have less bitter cause to grieve ? I give thee tears for scorn , and love for JULIAN AND MADDALO . 21.
... on my dead memory ? " Alas , love ! Fear me not : against thee I'd not move A finger in despite . Do I not live That thou mayst have less bitter cause to grieve ? I give thee tears for scorn , and love for JULIAN AND MADDALO . 21.
Pàgina 61
... fears not I should do more mischief . - Next Lie bills and calculations much perplext , With steam - boats , frigates , and machinery quaint Traced over them in blue and yellow paint . Then comes a range of mathematical Instruments ...
... fears not I should do more mischief . - Next Lie bills and calculations much perplext , With steam - boats , frigates , and machinery quaint Traced over them in blue and yellow paint . Then comes a range of mathematical Instruments ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
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
Passatges populars
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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.
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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...
Pàgina 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.