The Poetical Works of John Keats: With a LifeLittle, Brown. Shepard, Clark and Brown, 1859 - 438 Seiten |
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Seite 18
... beauty - crest of summer weather ; To summon all the downiest clouds together For the sun's purple couch ; to emulate In ministering the potent rule of fate With speed of fire - tail'd exhalations ; To tint her pallid cheek with bloom ...
... beauty - crest of summer weather ; To summon all the downiest clouds together For the sun's purple couch ; to emulate In ministering the potent rule of fate With speed of fire - tail'd exhalations ; To tint her pallid cheek with bloom ...
Seite 47
... beauty , for thy silver prow Not to have dipp'd in love's most gentle stream . O be propitious , nor severely deem My madness impious ; for , by all the stars . That tend thy bidding , I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are ...
... beauty , for thy silver prow Not to have dipp'd in love's most gentle stream . O be propitious , nor severely deem My madness impious ; for , by all the stars . That tend thy bidding , I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are ...
Seite 55
... beauty ; fonder , in fair sooth , Than sighs could fathom , or contentment reach : And coverlids gold - tinted like the peach , Or ripe October's faded marigolds , Fell sleek about him in a thousand folds- Not hiding up an Apollonian ...
... beauty ; fonder , in fair sooth , Than sighs could fathom , or contentment reach : And coverlids gold - tinted like the peach , Or ripe October's faded marigolds , Fell sleek about him in a thousand folds- Not hiding up an Apollonian ...
Seite 75
... beauty snared me . ” - Desist ! or my offended mistress ' nod Will stagnate all thy fountains : -tease me not With syren words — Ah , have I really got " Cruel god , Such power to madden thee ? And is it true- Away , away , or I shall ...
... beauty snared me . ” - Desist ! or my offended mistress ' nod Will stagnate all thy fountains : -tease me not With syren words — Ah , have I really got " Cruel god , Such power to madden thee ? And is it true- Away , away , or I shall ...
Seite 79
... abode Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine Such utmost beauty ? Alas , thou dost pine For one as sorrowful : thy cheek is pale For one whose cheek is pale : thou dost bewail Not of these days , but long ago ' twas 80 ENDYMION .
... abode Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine Such utmost beauty ? Alas , thou dost pine For one as sorrowful : thy cheek is pale For one whose cheek is pale : thou dost bewail Not of these days , but long ago ' twas 80 ENDYMION .
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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.