The Letters and Poems of John Keats, Bände 1-2

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Dodd, Mead, 1883

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Seite 243 - Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, — Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old-sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Seite 73 - THE poetry of earth is never dead : When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's...
Seite 76 - My spirit is too weak — Mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the cloudy winds to keep Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Seite 246 - 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...
Seite xxviii - 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 248 - 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...
Seite 194 - The earnest trumpet spake, and silver thrills From kissing cymbals made a merry din — 'Twas Bacchus and his kin ! Like to a moving vintage down they came, Crown'd with green leaves, and faces all on flame; All madly dancing through the pleasant valley, To scare thee, Melancholy ! O then, O then, thou wast a simple name!
Seite 196 - tis not for me ! Bewitch'd I sure must be, To lose in grieving all my maiden prime. " Come then, Sorrow ! Sweetest Sorrow ! Like an own babe I nurse thee on my breast : I thought to leave thee And deceive thee, But now of all the world I love thee best. " There is not one, No, no, not one But thee to comfort a poor lonely maid ; Thou art her mother, And her brother, Her playmate, and her wooer in the shade.
Seite 81 - ON THE SEA It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often 'tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from where it sometime fell, When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
Seite 26 - Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe 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.

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