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 viii
... soft voices die ) Song ( Rarely , rarely , comest thou ) . Lines written on hearing the news of the Death of Napoleon Mutability ( The flower that smiles to - day ) . 263 264 265 266 266 266 267 269 269 270 272 Sonnet , Political ...
... soft voices die ) Song ( Rarely , rarely , comest thou ) . Lines written on hearing the news of the Death of Napoleon Mutability ( The flower that smiles to - day ) . 263 264 265 266 266 266 267 269 269 270 272 Sonnet , Political ...
Side xi
... art thou , presumptuous , who profanest 80. When soft winds and sunny skies 81. The babe is at peace within the womb 83. Evening , Ponte al Mare , Pisa 351 L 351 351 351 · 352 357 84. The Boat on the Serchio 85. Music ( I CONTENTS . xi.
... art thou , presumptuous , who profanest 80. When soft winds and sunny skies 81. The babe is at peace within the womb 83. Evening , Ponte al Mare , Pisa 351 L 351 351 351 · 352 357 84. The Boat on the Serchio 85. Music ( I CONTENTS . xi.
Side 57
... soft smiles shone afar ; And her low voice was heard like love , and drew All living things towards this wonder new . VI . And first the spotted camelopard came ; And then the wise and fearless elephant ; Then the sly serpent , in the ...
... soft smiles shone afar ; And her low voice was heard like love , and drew All living things towards this wonder new . VI . And first the spotted camelopard came ; And then the wise and fearless elephant ; Then the sly serpent , in the ...
Side 59
... to burst forth ; some weak and faint With the soft burthen of intensest bliss It is their work to bear to many a saint Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is , Even Love's ; and others , white , green , THE WITCH OF ATLAS . 59.
... to burst forth ; some weak and faint With the soft burthen of intensest bliss It is their work to bear to many a saint Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is , Even Love's ; and others , white , green , THE WITCH OF ATLAS . 59.
Side 64
... soft motion Piloted it round the circumfluous ocean . XXXIV . This boat she moored upon her fount , and lit A living spirit within all its frame , Breathing the soul of swiftness into it . Couched on the fountain - like a panther tame ...
... soft motion Piloted it round the circumfluous ocean . XXXIV . This boat she moored upon her fount , and lit A living spirit within all its frame , Breathing the soul of swiftness into it . Couched on the fountain - like a panther tame ...
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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.