John Keats, Том 1

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Houghton Mifflin, 1925 - 662 страници

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Страница 497 - Not for these I raise The song of thanks and praise; But for those obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things, Fallings from us, vanishings; Blank misgivings of a Creature Moving about in worlds not realized, High instincts before which our mortal Nature Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised...
Страница 221 - For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and...
Страница 222 - And can I ever bid these joys farewell ? Yes, I must pass them for a nobler life, Where I may find the agonies, the strife Of human hearts...
Страница 625 - The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy ; but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted...
Страница 528 - The Imagination may be compared to Adam's dream: he awoke and found it Truth. I am more zealous in this affair, because I have never yet been able to perceive how anything can be known for Truth by consecutive reasoning, and yet it must be so.
Страница 507 - But, for the sake of a few fine imaginative or domestic passages, are we to be bullied into a certain Philosophy engendered in the whims of an Egotist ? Every man has his speculations, but every man does not brood and peacock over them till he makes a false coinage and deceives himself.
Страница 146 - What next ? a tuft of evening primroses, O'er which the mind may hover till it dozes ; O'er which it well might take a pleasant sleep, But that 'tis ever startled by the leap Of buds into ripe flowers...
Страница 224 - The morning precious: beauty was awake! Why were ye not awake? But ye were dead To things ye knew not of, — were closely wed To musty laws lined out with wretched rule And compass vile: so that ye taught a school Of dolts to smoothe, inlay, and clip, and fit, Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit, Their verses tallied.
Страница 77 - O SOLITUDE ! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings ; climb with me the steep, — Nature's observatory — whence the dell, Its flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span ; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
Страница 312 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.

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