The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: Including Various Additional Pieces from Ms. and Other Sources, Bind 2E. Moxon, 1870 |
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Side x
... head is wild with weeping for a grief PAGE 298 299 299 299 307 308 308 308 308 309 309 309 310 312 312 312 312 25. Flourishing vine whose kindling clusters grow 313 26. Scene from Tasso - Song for Tasso . 313 27. Marenghi 314 28. Follow ...
... head is wild with weeping for a grief PAGE 298 299 299 299 307 308 308 308 308 309 309 309 310 312 312 312 312 25. Flourishing vine whose kindling clusters grow 313 26. Scene from Tasso - Song for Tasso . 313 27. Marenghi 314 28. Follow ...
Side xi
... head is heavy , my limbs are weary 327 56. A Vision of the Sea 327 + 57. The Waning Moon 33T 58. Death ( Death is here , and death is there ) 332 59. The World's Wanderers 332 60. Orpheus 333 61. To his Genius 336 62. Fiordispina 339 63 ...
... head is heavy , my limbs are weary 327 56. A Vision of the Sea 327 + 57. The Waning Moon 33T 58. Death ( Death is here , and death is there ) 332 59. The World's Wanderers 332 60. Orpheus 333 61. To his Genius 336 62. Fiordispina 339 63 ...
Side 18
... head . Where's Dr. Willis ? -Or is he joking ? What does the rascal mean or hope , No longer imitating Pope , In that barbarian Shakspeare poking ? " V. One more : " Is incest not enough ? And must there be adultery too ? Grace after ...
... head . Where's Dr. Willis ? -Or is he joking ? What does the rascal mean or hope , No longer imitating Pope , In that barbarian Shakspeare poking ? " V. One more : " Is incest not enough ? And must there be adultery too ? Grace after ...
Side 22
... head ! Her shroud for a new sheet I'll take . XXIX . " My wife wants one . - Let who will bury This mangled corpse ! And I and you , My dearest Soul , will then make merry , As the Prince Regent did with Sherry , — Ay , and at last ...
... head ! Her shroud for a new sheet I'll take . XXIX . " My wife wants one . - Let who will bury This mangled corpse ! And I and you , My dearest Soul , will then make merry , As the Prince Regent did with Sherry , — Ay , and at last ...
Side 31
... heads , and tiled with scalps . Over the altar the statue of Famine , veiled ; a number of Boars , Sows , and Sucking Pigs , crowned with thistle , shamrock , and oak , sitting on the steps , and clinging round the altar of the Temple ...
... heads , and tiled with scalps . Over the altar the statue of Famine , veiled ; a number of Boars , Sows , and Sucking Pigs , crowned with thistle , shamrock , and oak , sitting on the steps , and clinging round the altar of the Temple ...
Indhold
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
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
Populære passager
Side 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...
Side 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.
Side 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!
Side 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.
Side 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.
Side 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.
Side 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...
Side 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...
Side 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!
Side 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.