Poems from ShelleyMacmillan, 1880 - 340 pàgines |
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Pàgina xvii
... Wind . The last alone is enough to place Shelley apart from the other lyrical poets of England . In it , as in the Prometheus , and still more splendidly , all his powers and his poetic subjects are wrought into a whole . The emotion ...
... Wind . The last alone is enough to place Shelley apart from the other lyrical poets of England . In it , as in the Prometheus , and still more splendidly , all his powers and his poetic subjects are wrought into a whole . The emotion ...
Pàgina xxi
... wind and the mysterious sea , the things he loved , slew their lover- —a common fate - and we hear no more his singing . His work was done , and its twofold nature may well be imaged by the Sea that received into its uninhabited breast ...
... wind and the mysterious sea , the things he loved , slew their lover- —a common fate - and we hear no more his singing . His work was done , and its twofold nature may well be imaged by the Sea that received into its uninhabited breast ...
Pàgina xxxvi
... wind . " Nor is that minuteness of observation wanting which is the proof of careful love . Shelley's imaginative study of beauty is re- vealed in the way the growth of the dawn is set before us by the waxing and waning of the light of ...
... wind . " Nor is that minuteness of observation wanting which is the proof of careful love . Shelley's imaginative study of beauty is re- vealed in the way the growth of the dawn is set before us by the waxing and waning of the light of ...
Pàgina xxxvii
... wind , and the sun- beams , like a river of fire flowing between lofty banks , pour through the chasm across the sea , while the shat- tered vapours which the coming storm has driven forth to make the opening , are tossed , all crimson ...
... wind , and the sun- beams , like a river of fire flowing between lofty banks , pour through the chasm across the sea , while the shat- tered vapours which the coming storm has driven forth to make the opening , are tossed , all crimson ...
Pàgina lxvi
... the Bay of Lerici To- 288 · 290 293 • 294 295 ADONAIS ; —An elegy on the death of John Keats • 296 ODE TO THE WEST WIND 317 NOTES 321 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 337 POEMS FROM SHELLEY HYMN TO INTELLECTUAL BEAUTY . THE awful lxvi CONTENTS .
... the Bay of Lerici To- 288 · 290 293 • 294 295 ADONAIS ; —An elegy on the death of John Keats • 296 ODE TO THE WEST WIND 317 NOTES 321 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 337 POEMS FROM SHELLEY HYMN TO INTELLECTUAL BEAUTY . THE awful lxvi CONTENTS .
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
Frases i termes més freqüents
Adonais Alastor ANTISTROPHE Apennine azure beams beautiful beneath birds blue bowers breast breath bright calm cave caverns clouds cold Dæmons dark dead death deep delight DEMOGORGON dream earth EPODE eternal eyes faint fire flame fled float flowers folded palm forest gaze gentle glow golden golden air grave green grew grey heart heaven hope human isles kiss leaves light lips living Maddalo mist Mont Blanc moon mortal mountains Nature never night nursling o'er ocean odour pale Pantheism passion pinnace poem poet Prometheus Unbound rain Revolt of Islam round SEMICHORUS Sensitive Plant shadow Shelley Shelley's silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit Spirit of Solitude splendour stars storm stream sweet swift tears thee thine things thou art thought thro tremble truth vapour veil verse vision voice wandering waves weep wild wind wind-flowers wings woods
Passatges populars
Pàgina 311 - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth...
Pàgina 77 - With a sweet emotion ; Nothing in the world is single ; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle...
Pàgina v - I crossed a moor, with a name of its own And a certain use in the world no doubt, Yet a hand's-breadth of it shines alone 'Mid the blank miles round about...
Pàgina 131 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire...
Pàgina 151 - My soul is an enchanted boat, Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing; And thine doth like an angel sit Beside a helm conducting it; Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
Pàgina 302 - Midst others of less note, came one frail Form, A phantom among men ; companionless As the last cloud of an expiring storm Whose thunder is its knell ; he, as I guess, Had gazed on Nature's naked loveliness, ActEeon-like, and now he fled astray With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness, And his own thoughts, along that rugged way, Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.
Pàgina 143 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams ; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noon-day dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Pàgina 309 - Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill...
Pàgina 5 - On a poet's lips I slept, Dreaming like a love-adept In the sound his breathing kept. Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses, But feeds on the aerial kisses Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses. He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom, Nor heed nor see what things they be : But from these create he can Forms more real than living man, Nurslings of immortality.
Pàgina 1 - It visits with inconstant glance Each human heart and countenance ; Like hues and harmonies of evening, Like clouds in starlight widely spread, Like memory of music fled, Like aught that for its grace may be Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery.