The British Poets, المجلد 4Little, Brown & Company, 1855 |
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الصفحة 31
... thee , even As sleep round Love , are driven- Metropolis of a ruined Paradise Long lost , late won , and yet but half regained ! Bright Altar of the bloodless sacrifice , Which armed Victory offers up unstained To Love , the flower ...
... thee , even As sleep round Love , are driven- Metropolis of a ruined Paradise Long lost , late won , and yet but half regained ! Bright Altar of the bloodless sacrifice , Which armed Victory offers up unstained To Love , the flower ...
الصفحة 32
... thee ? thy shield is as a mirror To make their blind slaves see , and with fierce gleam To turn his hungry sword upon the wearer ; A new Actæon's error Shall theirs have been - devoured by their own hounds ! Be thou like the imperial ...
... thee ? thy shield is as a mirror To make their blind slaves see , and with fierce gleam To turn his hungry sword upon the wearer ; A new Actæon's error Shall theirs have been - devoured by their own hounds ! Be thou like the imperial ...
الصفحة 36
... Thee , Would not more swiftly flee , Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shep- herds.- Whatever , Spirit , from thy starry shrine Thou yieldest or withholdest , O let be This City of thy worship , ever free ! AUTUMN ; A DIRGE . THE ...
... Thee , Would not more swiftly flee , Than Celtic wolves from the Ausonian shep- herds.- Whatever , Spirit , from thy starry shrine Thou yieldest or withholdest , O let be This City of thy worship , ever free ! AUTUMN ; A DIRGE . THE ...
الصفحة 39
... thee in thy fiery flight , In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now ? Tell me , moon , thou pale and gray Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way , In what depth of night or day Seekest thou repose now ? Weary wind , who ...
... thee in thy fiery flight , In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now ? Tell me , moon , thou pale and gray Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way , In what depth of night or day Seekest thou repose now ? Weary wind , who ...
الصفحة 49
... Thee to base company ( as chance may do ) Quite unaware of what thou dost contain , I prithee comfort thy sweet self again , My last delight ! tell them that they are dull , And bid them own that thou art beautiful . The composition ...
... Thee to base company ( as chance may do ) Quite unaware of what thou dost contain , I prithee comfort thy sweet self again , My last delight ! tell them that they are dull , And bid them own that thou art beautiful . The composition ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
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
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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?
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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!
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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...
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.
الصفحة 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.