Poetical Works, Volúmenes2-4Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1881 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 77
Página 29
... milk - white bulls that Beside Clitumnus and the crystal lakes Of the Cisalpine mountains , in fresh dews Of lotus - grass and blossoming asphodel , Sleeking their silken hair , and with sweet breath Loading OR , SWELLFOOT THE TYRANT . 29.
... milk - white bulls that Beside Clitumnus and the crystal lakes Of the Cisalpine mountains , in fresh dews Of lotus - grass and blossoming asphodel , Sleeking their silken hair , and with sweet breath Loading OR , SWELLFOOT THE TYRANT . 29.
Página 30
Percy Bysshe Shelley. Sleeking their silken hair , and with sweet breath Loading the morning winds until they faint With living fragrance , are so beautiful ! - Well , I say nothing : but Europa rode On such a one from Asia into Crete ...
Percy Bysshe Shelley. Sleeking their silken hair , and with sweet breath Loading the morning winds until they faint With living fragrance , are so beautiful ! - Well , I say nothing : but Europa rode On such a one from Asia into Crete ...
Página 82
... sweet enthusiasm Which overflows in notes of liquid gladness , Filling the sky like light ! How many a spasm " Of fevered brains , oppressed with grief and madness , Were lulled by thee , delightful nightingale ! And these soft waves ...
... sweet enthusiasm Which overflows in notes of liquid gladness , Filling the sky like light ! How many a spasm " Of fevered brains , oppressed with grief and madness , Were lulled by thee , delightful nightingale ! And these soft waves ...
Página 92
... sweet , but uncommunicably strange , Thou breathest now in fast ascending numbers The cope of heaven seems rent and cloven By the enchantment of thy strain , And on my shoulders wings are woven , To follow its sublime career , Beyond ...
... sweet , but uncommunicably strange , Thou breathest now in fast ascending numbers The cope of heaven seems rent and cloven By the enchantment of thy strain , And on my shoulders wings are woven , To follow its sublime career , Beyond ...
Página 105
... sweet Rosalind . ' Tis long since thou and I have met : And yet methinks it were unkind Those moments to forget . Come , sit by me . I see thee stand By this lone lake , in this far land , Thy loose hair in the light wind flying , Thy sweet ...
... sweet Rosalind . ' Tis long since thou and I have met : And yet methinks it were unkind Those moments to forget . Come , sit by me . I see thee stand By this lone lake , in this far land , Thy loose hair in the light wind flying , Thy sweet ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
Adonais ANTISTROPHE Apennine art thou Bay of Spezia beast beautiful beneath blood boat brain breath bright burning calm cave cavern chidden child CHORUS clouds cold cradle CYCLOPS DÆMON dark dead dear death deep delight divine dream earth eternal eyes faint fear fire flame flame transformed fled flowers folded palm gentle golden grave gray green grew grief hair heart heaven Hermes hope immortal Iona kiss lady leaves LEIGH HUNT Lerici light lips living MAMMON mighty mind moon mortal mountains never night o'er ocean odour Onchestus pale Peter Bell Pisa poem PURGANAX rain round SEMICHORUS Serchio shadow Shelley shore SILENUS sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stars strange stream sweet SWELLFOOT swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought truth ULYSSES veil voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings woods
Pasajes populares
Página 320 - I BRING fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Página 279 - If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable!
Página 92 - He wakes or sleeps with the enduring dead ; Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now. Dust to the dust, but the pure spirit shall flow Back to the burning fountain whence it came, A portion of the Eternal, which must glow Through time and change, unquenchably the same, Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of shame.
Página 328 - Yet if we could scorn Hate and pride and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then — as I am listening now.
Página 320 - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Página 96 - Go thou to Rome, — at once the Paradise, The grave, the city, and the wilderness ; And where its wrecks like shattered mountains rise, 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, A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
Página 319 - PHILOSOPHY THE fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Página 167 - Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute : — No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell.
Página 167 - O Love! who bewailest The frailty of all things here, Why choose you the frailest For your cradle, your home, and your bier? Its passions will rock thee As the storms rock the ravens on high; Bright reason will mock thee Like the sun from a wintry sky. From thy nest every rafter Will rot, and thine eagle home Leave thee naked to laughter, When leaves fall and cold winds come.
Página 322 - May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The Stars peep behind her and peer. And I laugh to see them whirl and flee Like a swarm of golden bees When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,— Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high Are each paved with the moon and these.