Keats to MorrisD. Appleton, 1876 - English poetry |
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Page 23
... o'er the hills ; Let the red wine within the goblet boil , Cold as a bubbling well ; let faint - lipp'd shells , On sands , or in great deeps , vermilion turn Through all their labyrinths ; and let the maid Blush keenly , as with some ...
... o'er the hills ; Let the red wine within the goblet boil , Cold as a bubbling well ; let faint - lipp'd shells , On sands , or in great deeps , vermilion turn Through all their labyrinths ; and let the maid Blush keenly , as with some ...
Page 47
... o'er and o'er , Yet seems unconscious of their flight ; And she will watch the path no more Where first his form will be in sight . And were she summoned by his voice , She would not turn her head to greet him ; Come when he may , she ...
... o'er and o'er , Yet seems unconscious of their flight ; And she will watch the path no more Where first his form will be in sight . And were she summoned by his voice , She would not turn her head to greet him ; Come when he may , she ...
Page 53
... o'er thy spirit cast no shade , And , like the rainbow thou didst fade , Casa Wappy ! We mourn for thee , when blind , blank night The chamber fills ; We pine for thee , when morn's first light Reddens the hills ; The sun , the moon ...
... o'er thy spirit cast no shade , And , like the rainbow thou didst fade , Casa Wappy ! We mourn for thee , when blind , blank night The chamber fills ; We pine for thee , when morn's first light Reddens the hills ; The sun , the moon ...
Page 54
... o'er me ; I felt the chill - I turned aside- And Being seemed a troubled tide , Scarce half - resigned we looked , yet thought how sweet ' Twould be again in after - months to meet . And months have passed : now the bright moon is ...
... o'er me ; I felt the chill - I turned aside- And Being seemed a troubled tide , Scarce half - resigned we looked , yet thought how sweet ' Twould be again in after - months to meet . And months have passed : now the bright moon is ...
Page 81
... o'er the tiny pale , - Backed his beef - steaks against the wooden gable , And thrust his brawny bell - rope of a tail Right o'er the page , Wherein the sage Just then was spelling some romantic fable . The old man , half a scholar ...
... o'er the tiny pale , - Backed his beef - steaks against the wooden gable , And thrust his brawny bell - rope of a tail Right o'er the page , Wherein the sage Just then was spelling some romantic fable . The old man , half a scholar ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alma River art thou beauty beneath bliss blood breath Bregenz bright brow Camelot cheek child cloud cold crown dark dead dear death deep dream earth eternal evermore eyes face fair farewell father fear flowers gaze glory gold golden grief Guinevere hand happy harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope hour King King Arthur kiss Lady of Shalott Lamia Lancelot land Lars Porsena Lavaine light Limours lips live look Lord morn mother never night numbers o'er Oxus pain pale pass poems Queen rose round seemed shadow sigh silent sing Sir Bedivere Sir Lancelot sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit stars stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought Toll slowly Twas voice wave weary weep wild wind wings wonder words youth
Popular passages
Page 23 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Page 23 - 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...
Page 300 - If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Page 217 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life ! — and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Page 421 - for Aix is in sight!" " How they'll greet us !" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Page 422 - twas all one! My favor at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace— all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least.
Page 304 - Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven ; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Page 306 - I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew From the nations...
Page 304 - As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
Page 444 - Once more he stept into the street, And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth, straight cane; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning Never gave the enraptured air), There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling, Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering. Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, And like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering Out came the children running:...