Posthumous Poems of Percy Bysshe ShelleyJohn and Henry L. Hunt, 1824 - 415 Seiten |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 79
Seite 4
... things reputed holy ; and Maddalo takes a wicked pleasure in drawing out his taunts against religion . What Maddalo thinks on these matters is not exactly known . Julian , in spite of his heterodox opinions , is conjectured by his ...
... things reputed holy ; and Maddalo takes a wicked pleasure in drawing out his taunts against religion . What Maddalo thinks on these matters is not exactly known . Julian , in spite of his heterodox opinions , is conjectured by his ...
Seite 10
... thing you say , I should not see Much harm in the religions and old saws , ( Though I may never own such leaden laws ) Which break a teachless nature to the yoke : Mine is another faith . " - Thus much I spoke , And , noting he replied ...
... thing you say , I should not see Much harm in the religions and old saws , ( Though I may never own such leaden laws ) Which break a teachless nature to the yoke : Mine is another faith . " - Thus much I spoke , And , noting he replied ...
Seite 11
... things ill , Or in himself or others , has thus bow'd His being there are some by nature proud , Who , patient in all else , demand but this- To love and be beloved with gentleness : And being JULIAN AND MADDALO . 11.
... things ill , Or in himself or others , has thus bow'd His being there are some by nature proud , Who , patient in all else , demand but this- To love and be beloved with gentleness : And being JULIAN AND MADDALO . 11.
Seite 15
... thing ! smile on , As if I never went aside to groan , And wear this mask of falsehood even to those Who are most dear - not for my own repose- Alas ! no scorn , or pain , or hate , could be So heavy as that falsehood is to me- But that ...
... thing ! smile on , As if I never went aside to groan , And wear this mask of falsehood even to those Who are most dear - not for my own repose- Alas ! no scorn , or pain , or hate , could be So heavy as that falsehood is to me- But that ...
Seite 20
... things , and could moan For woes which others hear not , and could see The absent with the glass of phantasy , And near the poor and trampled sit and weep , Following the captive to his dungeon deep ; Me , who am as a nerve o'er which ...
... things , and could moan For woes which others hear not , and could see The absent with the glass of phantasy , And near the poor and trampled sit and weep , Following the captive to his dungeon deep ; Me , who am as a nerve o'er which ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Anarchs ANTISTROPHE Apennine art thou Bay of Spezia beams beautiful beneath breast breath bright calm cave cavern chidden CHORUS clouds cold CYCLOPS CYPRIAN DÆMON dance dark dead death deep delight desart divine dread dream earth EPODE eyes faint FAUST fear fire fled flowers folded palm gaze gentle gleam grass green grew grey grief hair hear heart heaven JUSTINA kiss lady leaves LEIGH HUNT light lips living lone look Maddalo MEPHISTOPHELES mighty mind MONT BLANC moon mortal mountains never night o'er ocean pale pinnace rocks round sate scorn shadows shapes SILENUS sleep smile snow soft song soul sound spirit SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE stars strange stream sweet swift tears tempest thee thine things thou art thought Tmolus truth ULYSSES vale veil voice wake wandering waves weep Whilst wild wind wings Witch woods youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 162 - I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple sea-weeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore Like light dissolved in star-showers thrown; I sit upon the sands alone; The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion — How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around...
Seite 283 - The windings of the dell. — The rivulet, Wanton and wild, through many a green ravine Beneath the forest flowed. Sometimes it fell Among the moss, with hollow harmony Dark and profound. Now on the polished stones It danced ; like childhood, laughing as it went : Then, through the plain in tranquil wanderings crept, Reflecting every herb and drooping bud \ That overhung its quietness.
Seite 132 - The wilderness has a mysterious tongue Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild, So solemn, so serene, that man may be, But for such faith, with nature reconciled; Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood By all, but which the wise, and great, and good Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.
Seite 5 - I RODE one evening with Count Maddalo Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow Of Adria towards Venice : a bare strand Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand, Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds, Is this ; an uninhabited sea-side, Which the lone fisher, when his nets are dried, Abandons ; and no other object breaks The waste, but one dwarf tree and some few stakes Broken and unrepaired, and the tide makes A narrow space of level sand...
Seite 3 - I say that Maddalo is proud, because I can find no other word to express the concentered and impatient feelings which consume him; but it is on his own hopes and affections only that he seems to trample, for in social life no human being can be more gentle, patient, and unassuming than Maddalo. He is cheerful, frank, and witty. His more serious conversation is a sort of intoxication; men are held by it as by a spell.
Seite 83 - the world and its mysterious doom "Is not so much more glorious than it was, That I desire to worship those who drew New figures on its false and fragile glass "As the old faded.
Seite 272 - His languid limbs. A vision on his sleep There came, a dream of hopes that never yet Had flushed his cheek. He dreamed a veiled maid Sate near him, talking in low solemn tones. Her voice was like the voice of his own soul Heard in the calm of thought...
Seite 261 - TO THE MOON ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth,— And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy...
Seite 89 - So knew I in that light's severe excess The presence of that shape which on the stream Moved, as I moved along the wilderness, "More dimly than a day-appearing dream, The ghost of a forgotten form of sleep ; A light of heaven, whose half-extinguished beam " Through the sick day in which we wake to weep, Glimmers, forever sought, forever lost ; So did that shape its obscure tenour keep " Beside my path, as silent as a ghost...
Seite 159 - Winter suddenly was changed to Spring ; And gentle odours led my steps astray, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kibsed it and then fled, as thou mightest in dream.