The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Volum 1

J. Miller, 1871
0 Ressenyes
Les ressenyes no es verifiquen, però Google comprova si hi ha contingut fals i el suprimeix quan l'identifica.

Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya

No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.

Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot

Frases i termes més freqüents

Passatges populars

Pàgina 356 - 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 376 - He gave man speech, and speech created thought, Which is the measure of the universe; And Science struck the thrones of earth and heaven, Which shook, but fell not; and the harmonious mind...
Pàgina 382 - 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 the helm conducting it, Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing. It seems to float ever, for ever, Upon that many-winding river, Between mountains, woods, abysses, A paradise of wildernesses ! Till, like one in slumber bound Borne to the ocean, I float down, around, Into a sea profound of ever-spreading sound.
Pàgina 330 - Heaven's winged hound, polluting from thy lips His beak in poison not his own, tears up My heart; and shapeless sights come wandering by, The ghastly people of the realm of dream...
Pàgina 127 - Marred his repose ; the influxes of sense, And his own being unalloyed by pain, Yet feebler and more feeble, calmly fed The stream of thought, till he lay breathing there At peace, and faintly smiling. His last sight Was the great moon, which o'er the western line Of the wide world her mighty horn suspended, With whose dun beams inwoven darkness seemed To mingle.
Pàgina 351 - Hypocrisy and custom make their minds The fanes of many a worship, now outworn. They dare not devise good for man's estate, And yet they know not that they do not dare.
Pàgina 370 - With azure waves which burst in silver light, Some Indian vale. Behold it, rolling on Under the curdling winds, and islanding The peak whereon we stand, midway, around, Encinctured by the dark and blooming forests, Dim twilight-lawns, and stream-illumined caves. And wind-enchanted shapes of wandering mist ; And far on high the keen sky-cleaving mountains From icy spires of sunlike radiance fling The dawn, as lifted Ocean's dazzling spray, From some Atlantic islet scattered up, Spangles the wind with...
Pàgina 382 - Life of Life, thy lips enkindle With their love the breath between them; And thy smiles before they dwindle Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes.
Pàgina 361 - Then two dreams came. One, I remember not. But in the other his pale wound-worn limbs Fell from Prometheus, and the azure night Grew radiant with the glory of that form Which lives unchanged within, and his voice fell Like music which makes giddy the dim brain, Faint with intoxication of keen joy : " Sister of her whose footsteps pave the world With loveliness — more fair than aught but her Whose shadow thou art — lift thine eyes on me.
Pàgina 144 - Now has descended a serener hour, And, with inconstant fortune, friends return ; Though suffering leaves the knowledge and the power Which says ' ' Let scorn be not repaid with scorn." And from thy side two gentle babes are born To fill our home with smiles, and thus are we Most fortunate beneath life's beaming morn: And these delights, and thou, have been to me The parents of the Song I consecrate to thee.

Informació bibliogràfica