PoemsGinn & Company, 1896 - 302 Seiten |
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Seite 1
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
Seite 3
... pain , While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing , and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod . 7 . Thou wast not born for death , immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread ...
... pain , While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing , and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod . 7 . Thou wast not born for death , immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread ...
Seite 7
... pain , Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind : Far , far around shall those dark - cluster'd trees Fledge the wild - ridged mountains steep by steep ; And there by zephyrs , streams , and birds , and bees , The moss - lain Dryads ...
... pain , Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind : Far , far around shall those dark - cluster'd trees Fledge the wild - ridged mountains steep by steep ; And there by zephyrs , streams , and birds , and bees , The moss - lain Dryads ...
Seite 22
... - heard strain , Full of sweet desolation - balmy pain . What first inspired a bard of old to sing Narcissus pining o'er the untainted spring ? In some delicious ramble , he had found A little 22 " I STOOD TIP - TOE . "
... - heard strain , Full of sweet desolation - balmy pain . What first inspired a bard of old to sing Narcissus pining o'er the untainted spring ? In some delicious ramble , he had found A little 22 " I STOOD TIP - TOE . "
Seite 32
... softening that enhances The downcast eye , repentant of the pain That its mild light creates to heal again : 140 145 150 155 160 5 E'en then , elate , my spirit leaps , and 32 " WOMAN , WHEN I BEHOLD THEE . " "WOMAN! WHEN I BEHOLD THEE"
... softening that enhances The downcast eye , repentant of the pain That its mild light creates to heal again : 140 145 150 155 160 5 E'en then , elate , my spirit leaps , and 32 " WOMAN , WHEN I BEHOLD THEE . " "WOMAN! WHEN I BEHOLD THEE"
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९९ Agnes Arethusa Art thou Bacchus beauty behold beneath bliss bower breath bright Carian clouds cold Corinth dark death deep delight dost doth dream ears earth Enceladus Endymion eyes Faerie Queene faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle gloom goddess golden green grief hair hand happy heart heaven Hermes Hyperion immortal John Keats Keats Keats's kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone lute Lycius lyre melody morning mortal Naiad never night nymph o'er Ode to Psyche once pain pale pass'd passion Peona poem poet poetry Porphyro rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling vex'd voice weep whisper wild wind wings wonders words young youth ΙΟ
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 5 - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss Though winning near the goal— yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! 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!
Seite 3 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
Seite 189 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Seite 8 - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreath'd trellis of a working brain, With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in ! FANCY.
Seite 10 - 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 2 - 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 Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
Seite 5 - Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Seite 2 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret, Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Seite 282 - Green little vaulter in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass...
Seite 8 - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...