John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-fameC. Scribner's Sons, 1917 - 598 páginas |
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Página 10
... tell his sister Peona how one of his love - sick vagaries has been to sit on a stone and bubble up the water through a reed , — So reaching back to boy - hood : make me ships Of moulted feathers , touchwood , alder chips , With leaves ...
... tell his sister Peona how one of his love - sick vagaries has been to sit on a stone and bubble up the water through a reed , — So reaching back to boy - hood : make me ships Of moulted feathers , touchwood , alder chips , With leaves ...
Página 28
... tell something of his own story , in the form of a few poems of a personal tenor and a very few letters written to and preserved by his friends . The As to his hospital work , it is clear that though his heart was not in it and his ...
... tell something of his own story , in the form of a few poems of a personal tenor and a very few letters written to and preserved by his friends . The As to his hospital work , it is clear that though his heart was not in it and his ...
Página 33
... tell the story of the old French Lai d'Aristote in the style and spelling of an early - printed English prose romance , -possibly the Morte d'Arthure . Into his would - be archaic prose , luxuriantly describing the lady's beauty , Keats ...
... tell the story of the old French Lai d'Aristote in the style and spelling of an early - printed English prose romance , -possibly the Morte d'Arthure . Into his would - be archaic prose , luxuriantly describing the lady's beauty , Keats ...
Página 38
... Tell ; The hand of Brutus , that so grandly fell Upon a tyrant's head . Ah ! had I never seen , Or known your kindness , what might I have been ? What my enjoyments in my youthful years , Bereft of all that now my life endears ? And can ...
... Tell ; The hand of Brutus , that so grandly fell Upon a tyrant's head . Ah ! had I never seen , Or known your kindness , what might I have been ? What my enjoyments in my youthful years , Bereft of all that now my life endears ? And can ...
Página 54
... tell . It is easy from the above and from some of Keats's later work to guess at most of the prints which had caught his attention on Hunt's walls and in his port- folios and worked on his imagination afterwards : -Pous- sin's ' Empire ...
... tell . It is easy from the above and from some of Keats's later work to guess at most of the prints which had caught his attention on Hunt's walls and in his port- folios and worked on his imagination afterwards : -Pous- sin's ' Empire ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics, and After-Fame ... Sidney Colvin Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-Fame Sidney Colvin, Sir Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
admiration afterwards Bailey beauty beginning Blackwood Brawne brother Brown Byron called Charles Lamb charm Coleridge couplet Cowden Clarke critical death delight Dilke dream Elgin marbles Elizabethan Endymion English epistle Eve of St expressed eyes Faerie Queene fancy Fanny Brawne feel friends genius George George Keats Hampstead happy Haydon Hazlitt heart hope human Hunt's Hyperion imagination inspiration John Hamilton Reynolds John Keats Joseph Severn Keats Keats's Lamb Lamia later Leigh Hunt letter lines living London metre Milton mind mood nature never night passage passion pleasure poem poet poet's poetic quoted Reynolds rimes Rimini romance seems Severn Shelley Shelley's sister Sleep and Poetry song sonnet soul Spenser spirit stanzas story strain sweet tell thee things thou thought touch verse vision volume walk weeks Woodhouse words Wordsworth writing written wrote young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 416 - 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...
Página 146 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be ; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me...
Página 88 - 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 stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Página 239 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Página 351 - 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!
Página 422 - 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 has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Página 253 - The excellence of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate from their being in close relationship with Beauty and Truth.
Página 388 - Ceres' daughter, Ere the God of Torment taught her How to frown and how to chide; With a waist and with a side White as Hebe's, when her zone...
Página 416 - What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
Página 404 - But his sagacious eye an inmate owns: By one and one the bolts full easy slide: The chains lie silent on the footworn stones; The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans. And they are gone...