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. |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 22
Seite 159
... AURANTHE . Auranthe . Conrad ! what tidings ? Good , if I may guess From your alert eyes and high - lifted brows . What tidings of the battle ? Albert ? Lu- dolph ? Otho ? Conrad . You guess aright . And , sister , slurring o'er Our by ...
... AURANTHE . Auranthe . Conrad ! what tidings ? Good , if I may guess From your alert eyes and high - lifted brows . What tidings of the battle ? Albert ? Lu- dolph ? Otho ? Conrad . You guess aright . And , sister , slurring o'er Our by ...
Seite 160
... Auranthe . So far yourself . But what is this to me More than that I am glad ? I gratulate you . Conrad . Yes , sister , but it does regard you greatly , - Nearly , momentously , — aye , painfully ! Make me this vow - Auranthe ...
... Auranthe . So far yourself . But what is this to me More than that I am glad ? I gratulate you . Conrad . Yes , sister , but it does regard you greatly , - Nearly , momentously , — aye , painfully ! Make me this vow - Auranthe ...
Seite 161
... Auranthe . That I heard Among the midnight rumours from the camp . Conrad . You give up Albert to me ? Auranthe . Harm him not ! E'en for his highness Ludolph's sceptry hand , I would not Albert suffer any wrong . Conrad . Have I not ...
... Auranthe . That I heard Among the midnight rumours from the camp . Conrad . You give up Albert to me ? Auranthe . Harm him not ! E'en for his highness Ludolph's sceptry hand , I would not Albert suffer any wrong . Conrad . Have I not ...
Seite 162
... Auranthe our intent imperial ? Lest our rent banners , too o ' the sudden shown , Should fright her silken casements , and dismay Her household to our lack of entertain- ment . A victory ! Conrad . God save illustrious Otho ! Otho . Aye ...
... Auranthe our intent imperial ? Lest our rent banners , too o ' the sudden shown , Should fright her silken casements , and dismay Her household to our lack of entertain- ment . A victory ! Conrad . God save illustrious Otho ! Otho . Aye ...
Seite 163
... Auranthe . Indeed , my liege , no secret Otho . Nay , nay , without more words , dost know of him ? Auranthe . I would I were so over - fortu- nate , Both for his sake and mine , and to make glad A father's ears with tidings of his son ...
... Auranthe . Indeed , my liege , no secret Otho . Nay , nay , without more words , dost know of him ? Auranthe . I would I were so over - fortu- nate , Both for his sake and mine , and to make glad A father's ears with tidings of his son ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
affectionate Brother JOHN Albert Auranthe beautiful BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON breath bright Brown Charles Armitage Brown Charles Cowden Clarke clouds Conrad dark DEAR death delight Dilke doth dream ears earth Endymion Erminia Ethelbert eyes fair FANNY FANNY BRAWNE fear feel flowers friend JOHN KEATS gentle George George Keats Gersa give Glocester Hampstead hand happy hast Haydon head hear heard heart heaven hope Hunt JOHN HAMILTON REYNOLDS Keats's kiss lady Lamia leave letter light lines lips live look Lord Lord Houghton Ludolph mind morning never night numbers o'er Otho pain pleasant pleasure poem Poetry poor Reynolds round seem'd sigh Sigifred silent sister sleep soft song sonnet soul spirit sweet tears Teignmouth tell thee thine thing THOMAS KEATS thou thought trees verses voice walk Wentworth Place wings words write written young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 121 - Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Seite 125 - 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 131 - Fade, far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret...
Seite 142 - 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 37 - Of all the unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways Made for our searching : yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...
Seite 131 - 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...
Seite 117 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Seite 119 - Tis dark; quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet; "This is no dream, my bride, my Madeline!" Tis dark; the iced gusts still rave and beat: "No dream, alas! alas! and woe is mine! Porphyro will leave me here to fade and pine. Cruel! what traitor could thee hither bring? I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine, Though thou forsakest a deceived thing — A dove forlorn and lost, with sick, unpruned wing.
Seite 37 - Gainst the hot season ; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead; All lovely tales that we have heard or read : An endless fountain of immortal drink, Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Seite 117 - Agnes' charmed maid, Rose, like a mission'd spirit, unaware: With silver taper's light, and pious care, She turn'd, and down the aged gossip led To a safe level matting. Now prepare, Young Porphyro, for gazing on that bed; She comes, she comes again, like ring-dove fray'd and fled.