The Poetical Works of John KeatsW. Scott, 1885 - 310页 |
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共有 38 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第42页
... thine . O for three words of honey , that I might Tell but one wonder of thy bridal night ! Where distant ships do seem to show their keels , Phoebus awhile delayed his mighty wheels , And turned to smile upon thy bashful eyes , Ere he ...
... thine . O for three words of honey , that I might Tell but one wonder of thy bridal night ! Where distant ships do seem to show their keels , Phoebus awhile delayed his mighty wheels , And turned to smile upon thy bashful eyes , Ere he ...
第43页
... thine , and thy dear shepherd's kisses : Was there a Poet born ? -but now no more- My wand'ring spirit must no further soar . ΤΟ HADST thou lived in days of old , what wonders had been told Of thy lively countenance , And thy humid eyes ...
... thine , and thy dear shepherd's kisses : Was there a Poet born ? -but now no more- My wand'ring spirit must no further soar . ΤΟ HADST thou lived in days of old , what wonders had been told Of thy lively countenance , And thy humid eyes ...
第44页
... thine ankle lightly turned : With those beauties , scarce discerned , Kept with such sweet privacy , That they seldom meet the eye Of the little loves that fly Round about with eager pry . Saving when , with freshening lave , Thou dipp ...
... thine ankle lightly turned : With those beauties , scarce discerned , Kept with such sweet privacy , That they seldom meet the eye Of the little loves that fly Round about with eager pry . Saving when , with freshening lave , Thou dipp ...
第45页
... thine alabaster steed ; Servant of heroic deed ! O'er his loins his trappings glow Like the northern lights on snow . Mount his back , thy sword unsheath ! Sign of the enchanter's death ; Bane of every wicked spell ; Silencer of ...
... thine alabaster steed ; Servant of heroic deed ! O'er his loins his trappings glow Like the northern lights on snow . Mount his back , thy sword unsheath ! Sign of the enchanter's death ; Bane of every wicked spell ; Silencer of ...
第50页
... thine own tongue ! O Poesy ! for thee I grasp my pen That am not yet a glorious denizen Of thy wide heaven ; yet , to my ardent prayer , Yield from thy sanctuary some clear air , Smoothed for intoxication by the breath Of flowering bays ...
... thine own tongue ! O Poesy ! for thee I grasp my pen That am not yet a glorious denizen Of thy wide heaven ; yet , to my ardent prayer , Yield from thy sanctuary some clear air , Smoothed for intoxication by the breath Of flowering bays ...
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常见术语和短语
Apollo Arethusa Art thou Bacchus beauty behold bliss bosom bower breast breath bright Carian charm chidden clouds cold cool dark dead death deep delight dewy dost doth dream ears earth Elysium Endymion eyes face faint fair Fanny Brawne fear feel flowers forest gentle golden gone green grief hair hand happy heard heart heaven hour Hyperion immortal Keats kiss Lamia leaves Leigh Hunt light lips lone look lute Lycius lyre Mermaid Tavern moon morning mortal mossy Naiad never night nymph o'er pain pale passed passion pleasant poet Porphyro rill ringdove rose round Saturn Satyrs Scylla shade sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft sorrow soul spake spirit stars stept stood strange sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas voice weep whisper wild wind wings wonders young youth
热门引用章节
第271页 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness!* Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme...
第269页 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
第271页 - Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
第268页 - MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, > Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
第270页 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But in embalmed darkness guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...
第223页 - And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays, To venture so: it fills me with amaze To see thee, Porphyro ! — St. Agnes' Eve ! God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays This very night: good angels her deceive! But let me laugh awhile, — I've mickle time to grieve.
第269页 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
第61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 ; and clear rills That for themselves a cooling covert make '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...
第229页 - And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake ! "Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite: " Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake, "Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache.
第280页 - Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find 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 and all its twined flowers...