The Poetical Works of John Keats: With a LifeLittle, Brown. Shepard, Clark and Brown, 1859 - 438 Seiten |
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Seite xxx
... soft footfall of the angel of Death , pacing to and fro under his window , to be his Valentine . That night he asked to have this epitaph inscribed upon his gravestone , 66 HERE LIES ONE WHOSE NAME WAS WRIT IN WATER . " On the 23d , he ...
... soft footfall of the angel of Death , pacing to and fro under his window , to be his Valentine . That night he asked to have this epitaph inscribed upon his gravestone , 66 HERE LIES ONE WHOSE NAME WAS WRIT IN WATER . " On the 23d , he ...
Seite 27
... soft hand , fair sister ! let me shun Such follying before thee - yet she had , Indeed , locks bright enough to make me mad ; And they were simply gordian'd up and braided , Leaving , in naked comeliness , unshaded , Her pearl round ...
... soft hand , fair sister ! let me shun Such follying before thee - yet she had , Indeed , locks bright enough to make me mad ; And they were simply gordian'd up and braided , Leaving , in naked comeliness , unshaded , Her pearl round ...
Seite 29
... soft in flowers . There was store Of newest joys upon that alp . Sometimes A scent of violets , and blossoming limes , Loiter'd around us ; then of honey cells , Made delicate from all white - flower bells ; And once , above the edges ...
... soft in flowers . There was store Of newest joys upon that alp . Sometimes A scent of violets , and blossoming limes , Loiter'd around us ; then of honey cells , Made delicate from all white - flower bells ; And once , above the edges ...
Seite 47
... soft shadow of my thrice - seen love , Than be - I care not what . O meekest dove Of heaven ! O Cynthia , ten - times bright and fair ! From thy blue throne , now filling all the air , Glance but one little beam of temper'd light Into ...
... soft shadow of my thrice - seen love , Than be - I care not what . O meekest dove Of heaven ! O Cynthia , ten - times bright and fair ! From thy blue throne , now filling all the air , Glance but one little beam of temper'd light Into ...
Seite 53
... soft slumber thou dost hear my voice , O think how I should love a bed of flowers ! — Young goddess ! let me see my native bowers ! Deliver me from this rapacious deep ! " Thus ending loudly , as he would o'erleap His destiny , alert he ...
... soft slumber thou dost hear my voice , O think how I should love a bed of flowers ! — Young goddess ! let me see my native bowers ! Deliver me from this rapacious deep ! " Thus ending loudly , as he would o'erleap His destiny , alert he ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adieu Apollo Arethusa art thou Bacchus beauty beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE cheek chidden clouds Corinth dark death deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Elysium Enceladus Endymion eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven Hermes Hyperion Keats kiss Lamia leaves light lips lone look lute Lycius lyre melodies moon morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er once pain pale pass'd passion pleasant pleasure poet rill ring-dove rose round Saturn Satyrs Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood streams sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice warm weep whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 287 - 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 197 - 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 288 - 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! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod.
Seite 369 - My spirit is too weak — Mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the cloudy winds to keep Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Seite ix - And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority...
Seite 302 - To bend with apples the mossed 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 has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Seite 390 - I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried— "La Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!
Seite 202 - Of fruits and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush 'd with blood of queens and kings.
Seite 418 - Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors: — No — yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair Love's ripening breast To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest; Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever, — or else swoon to death.
Seite 198 - Good Saints! not here, not here; Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy bier.