The poetical works of John Keats. With mem., notes &c, Ausgabe 7991874 |
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Seite 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 , EARLY POEMS . 9 Specimen ...
... 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 , EARLY POEMS . 9 Specimen ...
Seite 18
... morning oft glistened . In this little dome , all those melodies strange , Soft , plaintive , and melting , for ever will sigh ; Nor e'er will the notes from their tenderness change ; Nor e'er will the music of Oberon die . So , when I ...
... morning oft glistened . In this little dome , all those melodies strange , Soft , plaintive , and melting , for ever will sigh ; Nor e'er will the notes from their tenderness change ; Nor e'er will the music of Oberon die . So , when I ...
Seite 21
... morning frightens night ! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow , O bright - eyed Hope , my morbid fancy cheer ; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow : Thy heaven - born radiance ...
... morning frightens night ! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow , O bright - eyed Hope , my morbid fancy cheer ; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow : Thy heaven - born radiance ...
Seite 22
... Morning from her orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touched a verdant hill ; Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame , Silv'ring the untainted gushes of its rill ; Which , pure from mossy beds , did down distil , And after ...
... Morning from her orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touched a verdant hill ; Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame , Silv'ring the untainted gushes of its rill ; Which , pure from mossy beds , did down distil , And after ...
Seite 25
... And hold my faculties so long in thrall , That I am oft in doubt whether at all I shall again see Phoebus in the morning : Or flushed Aurora in the roseate dawning ! Or a white Naiad in a rippling stream ; Or To George Felton Mathew.
... And hold my faculties so long in thrall , That I am oft in doubt whether at all I shall again see Phoebus in the morning : Or flushed Aurora in the roseate dawning ! Or a white Naiad in a rippling stream ; Or To George Felton Mathew.
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adieu Apollo Arethusa Art thou beauty behold beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE clouds cool Corinth dark deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Enceladus Endymion eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone look lute Lycius lyre melodies Mnemosyne moon morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er Ophion pain pale passion pinions pleasant poet rill ringdove rose round Saturn Scylla shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood stream sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whisper wild wind wings wonders young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 275 - 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 has o'er-brimmed their clammy cells — Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Seite 262 - 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 ! tender is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Seite 40 - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He...
Seite 264 - 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! more happy, happy love! For ever warm and still to be enjoyed, For ever panting, and for ever young; All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Seite 261 - Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth. O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim : III.
Seite 269 - Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May ; And every leaf, and every flower Pearled with the self-same shower. Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep Meagre from its celled sleep : And the snake, all winter-thin, Cast on sunny bank its skin ; Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see Hatching in the hawthorn -tree. When the hen-bird's wing doth rest Quiet on her mossy nest ; Then the hurry and alarm When the bee-hive casts its swarm ; Acorns ripe down-pattering While the autumn breezes sing.
Seite xvi - And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
Seite 277 - 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.
Seite 224 - Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords, Whose very dogs would execrations howl Against his lineage: not one breast affords Him any mercy, in that mansion foul, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul.
Seite 223 - Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores All saints to give him sight of Madeline, But for one moment in the tedious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen; Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss — in sooth such things have been.