The Poetical Works of John Keats: Given from His Own Editions and Other Authentic Sources and Collated with Many Manuscripts, Τόμος 1

Εξώφυλλο
J.B. Lippincott, 1891
 

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Σελίδα 54 - Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Σελίδα 79 - 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.
Σελίδα 53 - Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair And gentle tale of love and languishment...
Σελίδα 79 - 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...
Σελίδα 56 - On the Grasshopper and Cricket. 1 HE poetry of earth is never dead : . When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; That is the Grasshopper's — he takes the lead In summer luxury, — he has never done With his delights ; for when tired out with fun He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Σελίδα 64 - O for ten years, that I may overwhelm Myself in poesy; so I may do the deed That my own soul has to 'itself decreed.
Σελίδα xxi - Think, the wonder of the moonstruck mortal — When she turns round, comes again in heaven, Opens out anew for worse or better! Proves she like some portent of an iceberg Swimming full upon the ship it founders, Hungry with huge teeth of splintered crystals?
Σελίδα 56 - GREAT spirits now on earth are sojourning : He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake, Catches his freshness from Archangel's wing : He of the rose, the violet, the spring, The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake : And lo ! whose steadfastness would never take A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering.
Σελίδα 80 - O may no wintry season, bare and hoary, See it half finished : but let Autumn bold, With universal tinge of sober gold, Be all about me when I make an end.
Σελίδα 80 - 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...

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