The poetical works of John Keats. With mem., notes &c, Ausgabe 7991874 |
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Seite 3
... sweet peas , on tiptoe for a flight : With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white , And taper fingers catching at all things , To bind them all about with tiny rings . Linger awhile upon some bending planks That lean against a ...
... sweet peas , on tiptoe for a flight : With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white , And taper fingers catching at all things , To bind them all about with tiny rings . Linger awhile upon some bending planks That lean against a ...
Seite 4
... sweet delight , and ever nestle Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand ! If you but scantily hold out the hand , That very instant not one will remain ; But turn your eye , and they are there again . The ripples seem right glad to ...
... sweet delight , and ever nestle Their silver bellies on the pebbly sand ! If you but scantily hold out the hand , That very instant not one will remain ; But turn your eye , and they are there again . The ripples seem right glad to ...
Seite 6
... sweet , Upheld on ivory wrists , or sporting feet : Telling us how fair , trembling Syrinx fled * Arcadian Pan , with such a fearful dread . Poor nymph - poor Pan - how he did weep to find Naught but a lovely sighing of the wind Along ...
... sweet , Upheld on ivory wrists , or sporting feet : Telling us how fair , trembling Syrinx fled * Arcadian Pan , with such a fearful dread . Poor nymph - poor Pan - how he did weep to find Naught but a lovely sighing of the wind Along ...
Seite 8
... sweet , and slow A hymn from Dian's temple ! while upswelling , The incense went to her own starry dwelling . But though her face was clear as infant's eyes , Though she stood smiling o'er the sacrifice , The Poet wept at her so piteous ...
... sweet , and slow A hymn from Dian's temple ! while upswelling , The incense went to her own starry dwelling . But though her face was clear as infant's eyes , Though she stood smiling o'er the sacrifice , The Poet wept at her so piteous ...
Seite 9
... sweet surprise , Until their tongues were loosed in poesy . Therefore no lover did of anguish die : But the soft numbers , in that moment spoken , Made silken ties , that never may be broken . Cynthia ! I cannot tell the greater blisses ...
... sweet surprise , Until their tongues were loosed in poesy . Therefore no lover did of anguish die : But the soft numbers , in that moment spoken , Made silken ties , that never may be broken . Cynthia ! I cannot tell the greater blisses ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
arms beauty beneath bliss blue breast breath bright clear close clouds cold cool dark death deep delight divine doth dream earth Endymion eyes face fair fear feel feet felt flowers forest gentle give golden gone green hair hand happy hast head hear heard heart heaven hour keep kiss leaves light lips live look morning mortal never night o'er once pain pale pass pleasant pleasure poet poor rest rose round seemed seen shade side sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sound spirit stars stood strange stream sure sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou thought took touch trees turn twas voice warm whisper wide wild wind wings wonders young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 275 - 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'er-brimmed their clammy cells — Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Seite 262 - 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 ! tender is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Clustered around by all her starry Fays ; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
Seite 40 - 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...
Seite 264 - Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And, happy melodist, unwearied, For ever piping songs for ever new; More happy love! more happy, happy love! For ever warm and still to be enjoyed, For ever panting, and for ever young; All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Seite 261 - Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth. O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim : III.
Seite 269 - Shaded hyacinth, alway Sapphire queen of the mid-May ; And every leaf, and every flower Pearled with the self-same shower. Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep Meagre from its celled sleep : And the snake, all winter-thin, Cast on sunny bank its skin ; Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see Hatching in the hawthorn -tree. When the hen-bird's wing doth rest Quiet on her mossy nest ; Then the hurry and alarm When the bee-hive casts its swarm ; Acorns ripe down-pattering While the autumn breezes sing.
Seite xvi - 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, 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
Seite 277 - 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.
Seite 224 - Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords, Whose very dogs would execrations howl Against his lineage: not one breast affords Him any mercy, in that mansion foul, Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul.
Seite 223 - Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores All saints to give him sight of Madeline, But for one moment in the tedious hours, That he might gaze and worship all unseen; Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kiss — in sooth such things have been.