The Poetical Works of John KeatsWiley & Putnam, 1847 - 256页 |
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共有 35 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第7页
... breast , half bare , Was hung a silver bugle , and between His nervy knees there lay a boar - spear keen . A smile was on his countenance ; he seem'd To common lookers - on , like one who dream'd Of idleness in groves Elysian : But ...
... breast , half bare , Was hung a silver bugle , and between His nervy knees there lay a boar - spear keen . A smile was on his countenance ; he seem'd To common lookers - on , like one who dream'd Of idleness in groves Elysian : But ...
第17页
... breast Of secret grief , here in this bowery nest . " This river does not see the naked sky , Till it begins to progress silverly Around the western border of the wood , Whence , from a certain spot , its winding flood Seems at the ...
... breast Of secret grief , here in this bowery nest . " This river does not see the naked sky , Till it begins to progress silverly Around the western border of the wood , Whence , from a certain spot , its winding flood Seems at the ...
第27页
... breast ; - ' twas even then , Straying about , yet , coop'd up in the den Of helpless discontent , hurling my lance From place to place , and following at chance , At last , by hap , through some young trees it struck , And , plashing ...
... breast ; - ' twas even then , Straying about , yet , coop'd up in the den Of helpless discontent , hurling my lance From place to place , and following at chance , At last , by hap , through some young trees it struck , And , plashing ...
第32页
... breast In the fountain's pebbly margin , and she stood ' Mong lilies , like the youngest of the brood . To him her dripping hand she softly kist , And anxiously began to plait and twist Her ringlets round her fingers , saying : " Youth ...
... breast In the fountain's pebbly margin , and she stood ' Mong lilies , like the youngest of the brood . To him her dripping hand she softly kist , And anxiously began to plait and twist Her ringlets round her fingers , saying : " Youth ...
第37页
... breast there lives a choking flame- O let me cool it among the zephyr - boughs ! A homeward fever parches up my tongue- O let me slake it at the running springs ! Upon my ear a noisy nothing rings- O let me once more hear the linnet's ...
... breast there lives a choking flame- O let me cool it among the zephyr - boughs ! A homeward fever parches up my tongue- O let me slake it at the running springs ! Upon my ear a noisy nothing rings- O let me once more hear the linnet's ...
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常见术语和短语
adieu Apollo Art thou Bacchus beauty beneath bliss blue bower breast breath bright Carian clouds cool Corinth dark deep delight divine dost doth dream earth EDWARD MOXON Elysium Enceladus Endymion eyes face faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle Goddess golden green grief hair hand happy head heart heaven hour Hyperion immortal JOHN KEATS kiss Lamia leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips lone lute Lycius lyre melodies morning mortal Muse Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale pass'd PHILIP VAN ARTEVELDE pinions pleasant pleasure rill rose round Saturn Scylla seem'd shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange streams sweet tears tell tender thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whence whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
热门引用章节
第123页 - 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.
第1页 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
第1页 - 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...
第202页 - 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.
第213页 - I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story,— Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old-sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
第211页 - 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, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft ; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
第202页 - 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 oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas in faery lands forlorn.
第211页 - 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 and all its twined flowers...
第2页 - 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. Nor do we merely feel these essences For one short hour; no, even as the trees That whisper round a temple become soon Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon, The passion poesy, glories infinite...
第145页 - Which was, to lead him, in close secrecy, Even to Madeline's chamber, and there hide Him in a closet, of such privacy...