The Complete Poetical Works of KeatsHoughton Mifflin Company, 1899 - 473ÆäÀÌÁö |
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... clear notion of his early training and associations , and to follow quite closely the development of his nature after he began to devote him- self to poetry . His father , Thomas Keats , was not a Londoner by birth , but came from the ...
... clear notion of his early training and associations , and to follow quite closely the development of his nature after he began to devote him- self to poetry . His father , Thomas Keats , was not a Londoner by birth , but came from the ...
3 ÆäÀÌÁö
... clear tumbling crystal , its pas- sionate gushes , Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews . Why linger you so , the wild labyrinth strolling ? Why breathless , unable your bliss to de- clare ? Ah ! you list to the nightingale's ...
... clear tumbling crystal , its pas- sionate gushes , Its spray that the wild flower kindly bedews . Why linger you so , the wild labyrinth strolling ? Why breathless , unable your bliss to de- clare ? Ah ! you list to the nightingale's ...
5 ÆäÀÌÁö
... clearly do I recollect the con- scious look and hesitation with which he of- fered it ! There are some momentary glances by beloved friends that fade only with life . ' The sonnet was printed in the 1817 volume . WHAT though , for ...
... clearly do I recollect the con- scious look and hesitation with which he of- fered it ! There are some momentary glances by beloved friends that fade only with life . ' The sonnet was printed in the 1817 volume . WHAT though , for ...
8 ÆäÀÌÁö
... clear . Lo ! who dares say , ' Do this ? ' Who dares call down My will from its high purpose ? Who say , ' Stand , ' Or ' Go ? ' This mighty moment I would frown - On abject C©¡sars not the stoutest band Of mailed heroes should tear off ...
... clear . Lo ! who dares say , ' Do this ? ' Who dares call down My will from its high purpose ? Who say , ' Stand , ' Or ' Go ? ' This mighty moment I would frown - On abject C©¡sars not the stoutest band Of mailed heroes should tear off ...
9 ÆäÀÌÁö
... clear and far ; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star , Or hand of hymning angel , when ' t is seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween : And let there glide by many a pearly car , Pink robes , and wavy hair , and diamond jar ...
... clear and far ; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star , Or hand of hymning angel , when ' t is seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween : And let there glide by many a pearly car , Pink robes , and wavy hair , and diamond jar ...
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Albert Auranthe beauty breath bright brother Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE clouds cold Conrad dark DEAR death delight Dilke dost doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes faint fair fancy FANNY FANNY BRAWNE fear feel flowers gentle George George Keats Gersa Glocester golden green Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS JOHN KEATS Keats's kiss lady Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt Letters and Literary light lines lips look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph morning mortal never night o'er Otho pain pale pass'd passion pleasant pleasure poem poetry Reynolds round seem'd sigh Sigifred silent sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spirit sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought trees verses voice wings wonder write young
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211 ÆäÀÌÁö - Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
133 ÆäÀÌÁö - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave 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!
143 ÆäÀÌÁö - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
154 ÆäÀÌÁö - Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture: she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line. Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
143 ÆäÀÌÁö - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee!
143 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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...
39 ÆäÀÌÁö - Of unreflecting love: — then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
125 ÆäÀÌÁö - She dwells with Beauty - Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
230 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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, 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...
143 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, and the fruit-tree wild...