The Complete Poetical Works and Letters of John KeatsHoughton, Mifflin, 1899 - 473 Seiten In the few short years of his life John Keats created lasting images of beauty. He wrote with a firm touch, with rich yet controlled imagination, with a joyous delight in nature. He possessed an instant alchemy by which he transmuted all sights and sounds into poetry. Voracious reading set him standards rather than furnished him models, and he strove to perfect his poetry through constant creative revision. He pleaded for freedom of imagination as opposed to the constraints of the school of Pope. He traveled widely in a futile search for health. Finally, in Rome, at the age of twenty-five, John Keats died of consumption. -- From publisher's description. |
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Seite vi
... mind and character . And since the volume of Keats's production is not large , and much of his posthumous poetry is rightly classed with his own acknowledged work , it seemed best to give everything , but to make the natural ...
... mind and character . And since the volume of Keats's production is not large , and much of his posthumous poetry is rightly classed with his own acknowledged work , it seemed best to give everything , but to make the natural ...
Seite xvii
... mind at the time , my dexterity seemed a miracle , and I never took up the lancet again . ' • • It may be assumed that not later than the summer of 1816 , when Keats was approaching his majority , he laid aside his instruments , never ...
... mind at the time , my dexterity seemed a miracle , and I never took up the lancet again . ' • • It may be assumed that not later than the summer of 1816 , when Keats was approaching his majority , he laid aside his instruments , never ...
Seite xix
... mind to pleasant converse , yet was , as he knew well , the direct road to converse with nature . Perhaps , in the lines , ' I stood tiptoe , ' it is the close and loving observation of nature which first arrests one's attention , but a ...
... mind to pleasant converse , yet was , as he knew well , the direct road to converse with nature . Perhaps , in the lines , ' I stood tiptoe , ' it is the close and loving observation of nature which first arrests one's attention , but a ...
Seite 4
... minds . ON RECEIVING A SHELL AND A CURIOUS COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES HAST thou from the caves of Golconda , a ... mind from the trammels of pain . This canopy mark : ' t is the work of a fay ; Beneath its rich shade did King ...
... minds . ON RECEIVING A SHELL AND A CURIOUS COPY OF VERSES FROM THE SAME LADIES HAST thou from the caves of Golconda , a ... mind from the trammels of pain . This canopy mark : ' t is the work of a fay ; Beneath its rich shade did King ...
Seite 13
... mind , Whose words are images of thoughts re- fin'd , Is my soul's pleasure ; and it sure must be Almost the highest bliss of human - kind , When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee . SONNET George Keats has a memorandum on this ...
... mind , Whose words are images of thoughts re- fin'd , Is my soul's pleasure ; and it sure must be Almost the highest bliss of human - kind , When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee . SONNET George Keats has a memorandum on this ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
affectionate Brother JOHN Albert Auranthe beautiful BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON breath bright Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE clouds Conrad dark death delight Dilke doth dream ears Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes fair FANNY BRAWNE FANNY KEATS fear feel flowers friend JOHN KEATS George Gersa give Glocester Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Keats's lady Lamia leave letter lines lips live look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph mind morning never night numbers o'er Otho pain pass pleasant pleasure poem poetry poor Reynolds Sigifred sister sleep soft song sonnet soon soul speak spirit sweet Teignmouth tell thee thine thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought to-day to-morrow town trees verses voice walk Wentworth Place wings wish words write written wrote yesterday
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 203 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, — While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day...
Seite 125 - O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," — that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Seite 146 - 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.
Seite 203 - Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath...
Seite 135 - 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 ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Seite 33 - 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 — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights ; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Seite 33 - 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 — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. The poetry of earth...
Seite 125 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
Seite 125 - 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!
Seite 117 - Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold: Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.