The British Poets, 4. köideLittle, Brown & Company, 1855 |
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Page 26
... speak Whate'er they thought of hawks and cats and geese , By pastoral letters to each diocese . LXXIV . The king would dress an ape up in his crown And robes , and seat him on his glorious seat , And on the right hand of the sunlike ...
... speak Whate'er they thought of hawks and cats and geese , By pastoral letters to each diocese . LXXIV . The king would dress an ape up in his crown And robes , and seat him on his glorious seat , And on the right hand of the sunlike ...
Page 31
... speak them ; -be they They seize me- fate ! STROPHE a . 1 . NAPLES , thou Heart of men , which ever pantest Naked , beneath the lidless eye of heaven ! Elysian City , which to calm enchantest The mutinous air and sea ! they round thee ...
... speak them ; -be they They seize me- fate ! STROPHE a . 1 . NAPLES , thou Heart of men , which ever pantest Naked , beneath the lidless eye of heaven ! Elysian City , which to calm enchantest The mutinous air and sea ! they round thee ...
Page 87
... speak to me once again ; Kiss me , so long but as a kiss may live ; And in my heartless breast and burning brain That word , that kiss shall all thoughts else survive , With food of saddest memory kept alive , Now thou art dead , as if ...
... speak to me once again ; Kiss me , so long but as a kiss may live ; And in my heartless breast and burning brain That word , that kiss shall all thoughts else survive , With food of saddest memory kept alive , Now thou art dead , as if ...
Page 90
... speak Is it not broken ? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly ; on a cheek The life can burn in blood , even while the heart may break . XXXIII . His head was bound with pansies over - blown , And faded violets ...
... speak Is it not broken ? On the withering flower The killing sun smiles brightly ; on a cheek The life can burn in blood , even while the heart may break . XXXIII . His head was bound with pansies over - blown , And faded violets ...
Page 98
... speak . LIII . Why linger , why turn back , why shrink , my heart ? Thy hopes are gone before : from all things here They have departed ; thou shouldst now depart ! A light is past from the revolving year , And man , and woman ; and ...
... speak . LIII . Why linger , why turn back , why shrink , my heart ? Thy hopes are gone before : from all things here They have departed ; thou shouldst now depart ! A light is past from the revolving year , And man , and woman ; and ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adonais ANTISTROPHE art thou Baubo Bay of Spezia beast beautiful beneath billows boat breath bright burning calm cave cavern chidden CHORUS clouds cold cradle CYCLOPS CYPRIAN DÆMON dance dark dead dear death deep delight divine dream earth eternal eyes faint FAUST fear feet fire flame transformed fled flowers folded palm gentle glorious glory golden gray green heart Heaven Hermes hope immortal Jove JUSTINA kiss leaves LEIGH HUNT Lerici light limbs living melody MEPHISTOPHELES mighty moon mortal mountain move never night o'er ocean Onchestus pale Pisa pleasure poem rocks round sailed Satyr SEMICHORUS Serchio shadow Shelley shore SILENUS sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit splendour stars stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne ULYSSES veil voice wake wandering waves weep whence Whilst wild wind wings Witch
Popular passages
Page 225 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Page 140 - I can give not what men call love, But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not, — The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?
Page 98 - The One remains, the many change and pass ; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.
Page 94 - He is made one with nature; there is heard His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder to the song of night's sweet bird: He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own; Which wields the world with never-wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Page 101 - I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side? Wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee! Death will come when thou art dead, Soon, too soon — Sleep will come when thou art fled; Of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night— Swift be thine approaching flight, Come soon, soon!
Page 95 - And many more, whose names on Earth are dark, But whose transmitted effluence cannot die So long as fire outlives the parent spark, Rose, robed in dazzling immortality. "Thou art become as one of us...
Page 133 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright...
Page 57 - To cold oblivion ; though it is in the code Of modern morals, and the beaten road Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread Who travel to their home among the dead By the broad highway of the world, and so With one chained friend, perhaps a jealous foe, . The dreariest and the longest journey go. True love in this differs from gold and clay, That to divide is not to take away.
Page 79 - In which suns perished. Others more sublime, Struck by the envious wrath of man or god, Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime ; And some yet live, treading the thorny road Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame's serene abode. VL But now thy youngest, dearest one has perished, The nursling of thy widowhood, who grew, Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished, And fed with true-love tears instead of dew.
Page 81 - Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain." Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.