Poems selected from Percy Bysshe Shelley, with preface by R. Garnett |
Iz vsebine knjige
Zadetki 1–5 od 83
Stran viii
... dead for ever , child . " ] DEATH • TO WILLIAM SHELLEY LINES TO A CRITIC 1818 . PAGE 93 94 95 96 98 TO MARY 99 SONNET . [ " Lift not the painted veil . " ] LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS JULIAN AND MADDALO 100 ΙΟΙ • 116 SONG ...
... dead for ever , child . " ] DEATH • TO WILLIAM SHELLEY LINES TO A CRITIC 1818 . PAGE 93 94 95 96 98 TO MARY 99 SONNET . [ " Lift not the painted veil . " ] LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS JULIAN AND MADDALO 100 ΙΟΙ • 116 SONG ...
Stran ix
... dead . " ] 302 LINES TO A REVIEWER • 303 1821 . 303 304 328 330 331 333 ON KEATS . ADONAIS • · · ON THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON DIRGE FOR THE YEAR TO NIGHT . TO EMILIA VIVIANI PAGE TIME . • 333 THE FUGITIVES • CHORUS FROM ix CONTENTS .
... dead . " ] 302 LINES TO A REVIEWER • 303 1821 . 303 304 328 330 331 333 ON KEATS . ADONAIS • · · ON THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON DIRGE FOR THE YEAR TO NIGHT . TO EMILIA VIVIANI PAGE TIME . • 333 THE FUGITIVES • CHORUS FROM ix CONTENTS .
Stran 6
... dead men Hang their mute thoughts on the mute walls around , He lingered , poring on memorials Of the world's youth , through the long burning day Gazed on those speechless shapes , nor , when the moon Filled the mysterious halls with ...
... dead men Hang their mute thoughts on the mute walls around , He lingered , poring on memorials Of the world's youth , through the long burning day Gazed on those speechless shapes , nor , when the moon Filled the mysterious halls with ...
Stran 9
... Lead only to a black and watery depth , While death's blue vault , with loathliest vapours hung , Where every shade which the foul grave exhales Hides its dead eye from the detested day , Conduct 9 THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE .
... Lead only to a black and watery depth , While death's blue vault , with loathliest vapours hung , Where every shade which the foul grave exhales Hides its dead eye from the detested day , Conduct 9 THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE .
Stran 10
Percy Bysshe Shelley. Hides its dead eye from the detested day , Conduct , O Sleep , to thy delightful realms ? This doubt with sudden tide flowed on his heart , The insatiate hope which it awakened , stung His brain even like despair ...
Percy Bysshe Shelley. Hides its dead eye from the detested day , Conduct , O Sleep , to thy delightful realms ? This doubt with sudden tide flowed on his heart , The insatiate hope which it awakened , stung His brain even like despair ...
Vsebina
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Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Adonais ANTISTROPHE art thou azure beams beautiful beneath billows blue bowers brain breast breath bright brow burning calm cave cavern chidden clouds cold Dæmon dark dead death deep delight didst divine dream earth eternal eyes faint fear flame flame transformed fled fleeting river flowers folded palm gentle gleam glow golden golden air grave green grew grey grief heart heaven hope hopes and fears hues human isle kiss know thyself lamps leaves light lips living mighty mist moon mortal mountains mourns for Adonais murmuring never night o'er ocean odour pale round shadow sighs silent sleep smiles soft song sorrow soul sound spirit splendour starless night stars stream sweet swift swords to ploughshares tears thee thine things thou art thought throne tremble Urania veil voice wake wandering waves weep wert Whilst wild wind wind-flowers wings woods
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 175 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Stran 89 - Nothing / beside / remains. // Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, / The lone and level sands / stretch far away. JOHN GIELGUD'S PAUSES: I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: // Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. // Near them, on the sand, / Half sunk, / a...
Stran 318 - Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not sleep — He hath awakened from the dream of life — 'Tis we, who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, And in mad trance strike with our spirit's knife Invulnerable nothings.
Stran 320 - His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there, All new successions to the forms they wear; Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight To its own likeness, as each mass may bear; And bursting in its beauty and its might From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven's light.
Stran 340 - 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...
Stran 323 - I sighed for thee ; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried Wouldst thou me...
Stran 363 - Its passions will rock thee As the storms rock the ravens on high ; Bright reason will mock thee, Like the sun from a wintry sky. From thy nest every rafter Will rot, and thine eagle home Leave thee naked to laughter, When leaves fall and cold winds come.
Stran 265 - Philosophy The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle.
Stran 362 - WHEN the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not ; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute : — No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell.
Stran 148 - 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: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me — who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The Champak odours fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart; — As I must on thine, Oh, beloved as thou art!