The Poems of John KeatsMethuen and Company, Limited, 1926 - 639 էջ |
From inside the book
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Էջ xxiv
... Morning Post , on the merits of the Prince Regent , and pointing out that this Adonis in loveliness was in reality ' a corpulent man of fifty , without a single claim on the gratitude of his country , " " Keats expressed his delight in ...
... Morning Post , on the merits of the Prince Regent , and pointing out that this Adonis in loveliness was in reality ' a corpulent man of fifty , without a single claim on the gratitude of his country , " " Keats expressed his delight in ...
Էջ xxxii
... morning operating on a sense of idle- ness , " are by no means incompatible with it , but have their obvious parallel in the works of the most strenuous votaries of song . Keats , completely absorbed in the attainment of perfec- tion in ...
... morning operating on a sense of idle- ness , " are by no means incompatible with it , but have their obvious parallel in the works of the most strenuous votaries of song . Keats , completely absorbed in the attainment of perfec- tion in ...
Էջ lxvii
... morning , was but the echo of Nature's voice : - O fret not after knowledge . I have none , And yet my song comes native with the warmth . O fret not after knowledge ! I have none , And yet the evening listens . Here lies the mystery ...
... morning , was but the echo of Nature's voice : - O fret not after knowledge . I have none , And yet my song comes native with the warmth . O fret not after knowledge ! I have none , And yet the evening listens . Here lies the mystery ...
Էջ 9
... morning air : some lady sweet , Who cannot feel for cold her tender feet , From the worn top of some old battlement Hails it with tears , her stout defender sent : And from her own pure self no joy dissembling , Wraps round her ample ...
... morning air : some lady sweet , Who cannot feel for cold her tender feet , From the worn top of some old battlement Hails it with tears , her stout defender sent : And from her own pure self no joy dissembling , Wraps round her ample ...
Էջ 15
... , spell - bound , the nightingales listened ; 30 The wondering spirits of heaven were mute , And tears ' mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistened . In this little dome , all those melodies strange , ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL 15.
... , spell - bound , the nightingales listened ; 30 The wondering spirits of heaven were mute , And tears ' mong the dewdrops of morning oft glistened . In this little dome , all those melodies strange , ON RECEIVING A CURIOUS SHELL 15.
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Albert Apollo Auranthe beauty bliss breath bright clouds Conrad dark death deep delight dost doth dream earth Elgin Marbles Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes face Faerie Queene fair Fall of Hyperion feel flowers gentle George Keats Gersa Glocester golden green hand happy hast hath head heart heaven hour Hunt Hyperion John Keats Keats Keats's kiss lady Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips look look'd Ludolph Lycius melody moon morning mortal Muse never night o'er Otho Ovid pain pale Paradise Lost pass'd passion poem poet poetry round Saturn seem'd shade sigh Sigifred silent silver sleep Sleep and Poetry smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul Spenser spirit stars stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought trees trembling twas voice weep wild wind wings wonder words young ΙΟ бо
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Էջ 191 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Էջ 206 - She dwells with Beauty — Beauty that must die ; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu ; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips : Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine. Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Էջ 192 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Էջ 193 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Էջ 195 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Էջ 194 - 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...
Էջ 192 - 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 Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Էջ 205 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer...
Էջ 202 - ... Robin Hood Would, with his maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, — Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old-sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Էջ 246 - She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew, And sure in language strange she said — "I love thee true.