Life, Letters, and Literary Remains, of John KeatsG. P. Putnam, 1848 - 393 Seiten |
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Seite 17
... , " that he thought no one could dare to read Macbeth ' alone in a house , at two o'clock in the morning . " On the death of their remaining parent , the young Keats's were consigned to the guardianship of Mr. Abbey , a JOHN KEATS . 17.
... , " that he thought no one could dare to read Macbeth ' alone in a house , at two o'clock in the morning . " On the death of their remaining parent , the young Keats's were consigned to the guardianship of Mr. Abbey , a JOHN KEATS . 17.
Seite 18
... ( for the lines in imitation of Spenser , " Now Morning from her Orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touched a verdant hill , " & c . , are the earliest known verses of his composition , ) 18 LIFE AND LETTERS OF.
... ( for the lines in imitation of Spenser , " Now Morning from her Orient chamber came , And her first footsteps touched a verdant hill , " & c . , are the earliest known verses of his composition , ) 18 LIFE AND LETTERS OF.
Seite 19
... morning in his mirth . It is impossible to ' scape from toil O ' the sudden , and receive thy spiriting : The flower must drink the nature of the soil Before it can put forth its blossoming : Be with me in the summer days , and I Will ...
... morning in his mirth . It is impossible to ' scape from toil O ' the sudden , and receive thy spiriting : The flower must drink the nature of the soil Before it can put forth its blossoming : Be with me in the summer days , and I Will ...
Seite 20
... morning . Thou didst die A half - blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate.t But this is past thou art among the stars Of highest Heaven to the rolling spheres Thou sweetly singest : nought thy hymning mars , Above the ingrate world and ...
... morning . Thou didst die A half - blown flow'ret which cold blasts amate.t But this is past thou art among the stars Of highest Heaven to the rolling spheres Thou sweetly singest : nought thy hymning mars , Above the ingrate world and ...
Seite 29
... morning's eye . Such dim - conceived glories of the brain , Bring round the heart an indescribable feud ; So do these wonders a most dizzy pain , That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting of old JOHN KEATS . 66 29.
... morning's eye . Such dim - conceived glories of the brain , Bring round the heart an indescribable feud ; So do these wonders a most dizzy pain , That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting of old JOHN KEATS . 66 29.
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affectionate friend Albert Auranthe Bailey beauty Bertha breathe bright brother Brown Castle Conrad dare DEAR REYNOLDS death delight Dilke doth Elgin Marbles Emperor Endymion Erminia Ethelbert Exeunt eyes fair fame feel flowers genius George George Keats Gersa give Glocester Gonfred Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart Heaven honor hope Hunt imagination Isle of Wight JOHN KEATS Keats's lady leave Leigh Hunt letter literary live look Lord Lord Byron Ludolph mind morning nature never night noble numbers Otho pain Paradise Lost pass passion perhaps pleasure poem poet poetical poetry poor Port Patrick Prince Severn Shakspeare Sigifred sister sleep soft song Sonnet soon sort soul speak spirit Staffa sure sweet TEIGNMOUTH tell thee thine thing thou thought tion to-day verse walk wings word Wordsworth write written wrote
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 367 - I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful - a faery's child, Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild.
Seite 143 - The Genius of Poetry must work out its own salvation in a man. It cannot be matured by law and precept, but by sensation and watchfulness in itself. That which is creative must create itself.
Seite 69 - Dilke on various subjects; several things dove-tailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously — I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason...
Seite 247 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain; Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn, With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
Seite 245 - 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 95 - Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian ? or thy smiles Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, By bards who died content on pleasant sward, Leaving great verse unto a little clan ? O, give me their old vigour, and unheard Save of the quiet Primrose, and the span Of heaven and few ears, Rounded by thee, my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day.
Seite 142 - Our Adonais has drunk poison — Oh! What deaf and viperous murderer could crown Life's early cup with such a draught of woe? The nameless worm would now itself disown: It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong, But what was howling in one breast alone, Silent with expectation of the song, Whose master's hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.
Seite 143 - Praise or blame has but a momentary effect on the man whose love of beauty in the abstract makes him a severe critic on his own Works. My own domestic criticism has given me pain without comparison beyond what Blackwood or the Quarterly could possibly inflict — and also when I feel I am right, no external praise can give me such a glow as my own solitary reperception and ratification of what is fine.
Seite 32 - Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up ; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee ; thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.
Seite 74 - I MET a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, * Tell that its sculptor well those passions read...