The Poetical Works of John Keats: Reprinted from the Original EditionsMacmillan, 1884 - 284 páginas |
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Página 5
... heaven , and then there crept A little noiseless noise among the leaves , Born of the very sigh that silence heaves : For not the faintest motion could be seen Of all the shades that slanted o'er the green . There was wide wand'ring for ...
... heaven , and then there crept A little noiseless noise among the leaves , Born of the very sigh that silence heaves : For not the faintest motion could be seen Of all the shades that slanted o'er the green . There was wide wand'ring for ...
Página 8
... ravishment , -- the wonder— The darkness , -loneliness , -the fearful thunder ; Their woes gone by , and both to heaven upflown , To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne . So did he feel , who pull'd the boughs aside 8 POEMS .
... ravishment , -- the wonder— The darkness , -loneliness , -the fearful thunder ; Their woes gone by , and both to heaven upflown , To bow for gratitude before Jove's throne . So did he feel , who pull'd the boughs aside 8 POEMS .
Página 12
... heavens . Yet must I tell a tale of chivalry : Or wherefore comes that knight so proudly by ? Wherefore more proudly does the gentle knight , Rein in the swelling of his ample might ? Spenser thy brows are arched , open , kind , And ...
... heavens . Yet must I tell a tale of chivalry : Or wherefore comes that knight so proudly by ? Wherefore more proudly does the gentle knight , Rein in the swelling of his ample might ? Spenser thy brows are arched , open , kind , And ...
Página 13
... heavens ' dew . Near to a little island's point they grew ; Whence Calidore might have the goodliest view Of this sweet spot of earth . The bowery shore Went off in gentle windings to the hoar And light blue mountains : but no breathing ...
... heavens ' dew . Near to a little island's point they grew ; Whence Calidore might have the goodliest view Of this sweet spot of earth . The bowery shore Went off in gentle windings to the hoar And light blue mountains : but no breathing ...
Página 14
... heaven was bedewing The mountain flowers , when his glad senses caught A trumpet's silver voice . Ah ! it was fraught With many joys for him : the warder's ken Had found white coursers prancing in the glen : Friends very dear to him he ...
... heaven was bedewing The mountain flowers , when his glad senses caught A trumpet's silver voice . Ah ! it was fraught With many joys for him : the warder's ken Had found white coursers prancing in the glen : Friends very dear to him he ...
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Términos y frases comunes
adieu Apollo art thou beauty behold beneath bliss bower breast breath bright Carian clouds Corinth dark deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Elysium Enceladus Endymion eyes face Faerie Queene faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy hath heard heart heaven Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone lute Lycius lyre melody Mermaid Tavern Mnemosyne morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale pass'd passion Phorcus pleasant pleasure poem Poet rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought touch'd trees trembling twas voice weep wide wild wind wings wonders young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 214 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
Página 219 - And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreathed 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.
Página 258 - BRIGHT star ! would I were steadfast as thou art — < Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores...
Página 217 - O 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...
Página 207 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Página 216 - Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these ? What maidens loth ? What mad pursuit ? What struggle to escape ? What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecstasy ? Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Página 215 - Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Página 212 - And they are gone: ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm. That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe, And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form Of witch, and demon, and large coffinworm. Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform ; The Beadsman, after thousand aves told, For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.
Página 239 - But for the main, here found they covert drear. Scarce images of life, one here, one there, Lay vast and edgeways; like a dismal cirque Of Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor, When the chill rain begins at shut of eve, In dull November, and their chancel vault, The Heaven itself, is blinded throughout night.
Página 215 - 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.