The Poetical Works of John KeatsE. Moxon, 1856 - 256ÆäÀÌÁö |
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xv ÆäÀÌÁö
... look like affectations . But , even in these first efforts , the peculiarity of making the rhymes to rest on the most picturesque and varied words , instead of the conventional resonance of unimportant syllables , is distinctive , and ...
... look like affectations . But , even in these first efforts , the peculiarity of making the rhymes to rest on the most picturesque and varied words , instead of the conventional resonance of unimportant syllables , is distinctive , and ...
xxxii ÆäÀÌÁö
... look with hope to the nighing time when I shall have none . " After reading these passages it is difficult to see in what spirit more wise or manly an author could receive unseemly and insolent criticism . When Lord Byron boasts that ...
... look with hope to the nighing time when I shall have none . " After reading these passages it is difficult to see in what spirit more wise or manly an author could receive unseemly and insolent criticism . When Lord Byron boasts that ...
xxxiv ÆäÀÌÁö
... look : she has fine eyes , and fine manners . When she comes into the room , she makes the same impression as the beauty of a leopardess . She is too fine and too conscious of herself to repulse any man who may address her : from habit ...
... look : she has fine eyes , and fine manners . When she comes into the room , she makes the same impression as the beauty of a leopardess . She is too fine and too conscious of herself to repulse any man who may address her : from habit ...
xxxviii ÆäÀÌÁö
... Look at my hand , it is that of a man of fifty , " it was remembered that years before , Coleridge meeting Keats in a lane near Highgate , and shaking hands with him , had turned round to Mr. Hunt , and whis- pered , " There is death in ...
... Look at my hand , it is that of a man of fifty , " it was remembered that years before , Coleridge meeting Keats in a lane near Highgate , and shaking hands with him , had turned round to Mr. Hunt , and whis- pered , " There is death in ...
2 ÆäÀÌÁö
... look , and who do look with a zealous eye , to the honour of English literature . The imagination of a boy is healthy , and the mature imagi- nation of a man is healthy ; but there is a space of life between , in which the soul is in a ...
... look , and who do look with a zealous eye , to the honour of English literature . The imagination of a boy is healthy , and the mature imagi- nation of a man is healthy ; but there is a space of life between , in which the soul is in a ...
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Apollo Art thou beauty beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE clouds Corinth dark death deep delight divine dost doth dream earth Endymion eyes face faint fair fancy fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven hour Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips look lute Lycius lyre melodies Mermaid Tavern morning mortal muse Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale pass'd passion pleasant pleasure poet RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange streams sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
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209 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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-fringed 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?
208 ÆäÀÌÁö - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
216 ÆäÀÌÁö - Of their sorrows and delights ; Of their passions and their spites ; Of their glory and their shame ; What doth strengthen and what maim. Thus ye teach us, every day, Wisdom, though fled far away. Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth!
148 ÆäÀÌÁö - As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
182 ÆäÀÌÁö - Knowledge enormous makes a God of me. Names, deeds, grey legends, dire events, rebellions, Majesties, sovran voices, agonies, Creations and destroyings, all at once Pour into the wide hollows of my brain, And deify me, as if some blithe wine Or bright elixir peerless I had drunk, And so become immortal...
215 ÆäÀÌÁö - Where's the voice, however soft, One would hear so very oft? At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. Let then winged Fancy find Thee a mistress to thy mind: Dulcet-eyed as 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 Slipt its golden clasp, and down Fell her kirtle to her feet, While she held the goblet sweet, And Jove grew languid. — Break the mesh Of the Fancy's silken...
209 ÆäÀÌÁö - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
155 ÆäÀÌÁö - And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake! Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite: Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake, Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache.
157 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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. XLII And they are gone: ay, ages long ago 370 These lovers fled away into the storm.
153 ÆäÀÌÁö - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.