The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: Including Various Additional Pieces from Ms. and Other Sources, Τόμος 2E. Moxon, 1870 |
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Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 58.
Σελίδα 2
... wide world wandering be.— First , the antenatal Peter , Wrapped in weeds of the same metre , The so long predestined raiment , Clothed in which to walk his way meant The second Peter ; whose ambition Is to link the proposition As the ...
... wide world wandering be.— First , the antenatal Peter , Wrapped in weeds of the same metre , The so long predestined raiment , Clothed in which to walk his way meant The second Peter ; whose ambition Is to link the proposition As the ...
Σελίδα 15
... wide sky . XXI . And all the while , with loose fat smile , The willing wretch sat winking there ; Believing ' twas his power that made That jovial scene , and that all paid Homage to his unnoticed chair . XXII . Though to be sure this ...
... wide sky . XXI . And all the while , with loose fat smile , The willing wretch sat winking there ; Believing ' twas his power that made That jovial scene , and that all paid Homage to his unnoticed chair . XXII . Though to be sure this ...
Σελίδα 16
... wide earth's bosom green , — And the sweet strange mystery Of what beyond these things may lie , And yet remain unseen . IX . For in his thought he visited The spots in which , ere dead and damned , He his wayward life had led ; Yet ...
... wide earth's bosom green , — And the sweet strange mystery Of what beyond these things may lie , And yet remain unseen . IX . For in his thought he visited The spots in which , ere dead and damned , He his wayward life had led ; Yet ...
Σελίδα 26
... Yawned in him till it grew a pest ; A wide contagious atmosphere Creeping like cold through all things near ; A power to infect and to infest . XVIII . His servant - maids and dogs grew dull 26 PETER BELL THE THIRD .
... Yawned in him till it grew a pest ; A wide contagious atmosphere Creeping like cold through all things near ; A power to infect and to infest . XVIII . His servant - maids and dogs grew dull 26 PETER BELL THE THIRD .
Σελίδα 55
... ; Watering his laurels with the killing tears Of slow dull care , so that their roots to hell Might pierce , and their wide branches blot the spheres THE WITCH OF ATLAS - PROEM . 55 THE WITCH OF ATLAS (1820)- To Mary The Witch of Atlas.
... ; Watering his laurels with the killing tears Of slow dull care , so that their roots to hell Might pierce , and their wide branches blot the spheres THE WITCH OF ATLAS - PROEM . 55 THE WITCH OF ATLAS (1820)- To Mary The Witch of Atlas.
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Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
Ahasuerus Apennine art thou beams beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath bright calm cave cavern chidden Chorus clouds cold Cyclops Cyprian Dæmon dark dead death deep delight divine dost dream earth eternal eyes faint Faust fear fire fled flowers gentle Gisborne glory golden grave Greece green hear heart heaven hope Iona King kiss Lady leaves Leigh Hunt Lerici light living Lord Lord Byron Mahmud melody Mephistopheles mighty moon morning mortal mountains Naples never night nursling o'er ocean pale Peter Bell Pisa poem Pyrganax rain round ruin SEMICHORUS shadow Shelley Shelley's Silenus sleep smile soft song Sophia Stacey sorrow soul sound spirit splendour stanza stars storm stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought throne Tmolus tower Ulysses veil verse voice wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings words
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 207 - Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year...
Σελίδα 295 - 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.
Σελίδα 210 - 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 Has led me — who knows how ? — To thy chamber- window, sweet ! The wandering airs, they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The champak odors fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream ; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine, O, beloved as thou art!
Σελίδα 237 - The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder. I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast; And all the night 'tis my pillow white, While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Σελίδα 183 - Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.
Σελίδα 105 - Oh, not of him, but of our joy: 'tis nought That ages, empires, and religions there Lie buried in the ravage they have wrought; For such as he can lend, — they borrow not Glory from those who made the world their prey; And he is gathered to the kings of thought Who waged contention with their time's decay, And of the past are all that cannot pass away.
Σελίδα 237 - That orbed maiden , with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn...
Σελίδα 104 - 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...
Σελίδα 138 - Oh, cease! must hate and death return ? Cease! must men kill and die? Cease! drain not to its dregs the urn Of bitter prophecy. The world is weary of the past, Oh, might it die or rest at last!
Σελίδα 240 - Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine: I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.