Complete Poetical Works, Volum 1Houghten, Mifflin, 1892 |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 49
Side xxi
... voice were so soft and winning that every word pierced into my heart ; and their pathos was so deep that in listening to him the tears have involuntarily gushed from my eyes . Such was the being for whom I first experienced the sacred ...
... voice were so soft and winning that every word pierced into my heart ; and their pathos was so deep that in listening to him the tears have involuntarily gushed from my eyes . Such was the being for whom I first experienced the sacred ...
Side xxiii
... voice , until hundreds joined in the clamor , and the roof would echo and re- echo with ' Shelley ! Shelley ! Shelley ! ' Then a space would be opened , in which as in a ring or alley the victim must stand to endure his torture ; or ...
... voice , until hundreds joined in the clamor , and the roof would echo and re- echo with ' Shelley ! Shelley ! Shelley ! ' Then a space would be opened , in which as in a ring or alley the victim must stand to endure his torture ; or ...
Side xxx
... voice , which ceased when the speaker hurried away to attend a lecture on mineralogy , " About stones , about stones , " he said , with downcast look and melan- choly tones , on his return at the end of the hour . The evening continued ...
... voice , which ceased when the speaker hurried away to attend a lecture on mineralogy , " About stones , about stones , " he said , with downcast look and melan- choly tones , on his return at the end of the hour . The evening continued ...
Side xxxi
... voice , while acknowledging the defect , which was " chiefly observa- ble when he spoke under excitement . Then his voice was not only dissonant , like a jarring string , but he spoke in sharp fourths , the most unpleasing sequence of ...
... voice , while acknowledging the defect , which was " chiefly observa- ble when he spoke under excitement . Then his voice was not only dissonant , like a jarring string , but he spoke in sharp fourths , the most unpleasing sequence of ...
Side xxxvi
... voice . ' Shelley com- plained much of his violence and ungentlemanly de- portment , saying , ' I have experienced tyranny and injustice before , and I well know what vulgar violence is , but I never met with such unworthy treatment . I ...
... voice . ' Shelley com- plained much of his violence and ungentlemanly de- portment , saying , ' I have experienced tyranny and injustice before , and I well know what vulgar violence is , but I never met with such unworthy treatment . I ...
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Ahasuerus Alastor amid atheist beams beautiful beneath blood boat bosom breath bright calm child clouds Cythna dark death deep desolate disease Dowden dread dream earth eternal Eton evil eyes fair falsehood fear feel fire flame fled Forman frame friends gaze grave happy Harriet heard heart Heaven Hogg hope Horace Smith human Ianthe Laon light lips living lone looks Lucretius madness mankind mighty mind misery moon moral morning mountains nature Necessity of Atheism night o'er Ocean Ollier pale passed passion pause peace Percy Bysshe Shelley Pisa poem poison Queen Mab Revolt of Islam Rossetti conj ruin sate shade shadow shape Shelley Shelley's shone silence slavery slaves sleep smile soul spirit Spirit of Solitude stars stood strange stream sweet swift sympathy tears thee thine thou thought throne tion Trelawny truth tyrants voice wandering waves whilst wild wind youth καὶ
Populære avsnitt
Side 94 - Gaze on the empty scene as vacantly As ocean's moon looks on the moon in heaven. The spirit of sweet human love has sent A vision to the sleep of him who spurned Her choicest gifts.
Side 128 - Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass. I do remember well the hour which burst My spirit's sleep. A fresh May-dawn it was, When I walked forth upon the glittering grass, And wept, I knew not why ; until there rose From the near school-room voices that, alas ! Were but one echo from a world of woes — The harsh and grating strife of tyrants and of foes.
Side 94 - His brain even like despair. While day-light held The sky, the Poet kept mute conference With his still soul. At night the passion came, Like the fierce fiend of a distempered dream, And shook him from his rest, and led him forth Into the darkness.
Side 87 - If spring's voluptuous pantings when she breathes Her first sweet kisses, have been dear to me ; If no bright bird, insect, or gentle beast I consciously have injured, but still loved And cherished these my kindred...
Side 131 - They say that thou wert, lovely from thy birth, Of glorious parents thou aspiring Child : I wonder not, for One then left this earth Whose life was like a setting planet mild, Which clothed thee in the radiance undefiled Of its departing glory ; still her fame Shines on thee, through the tempests dark and wild Which shake these latter days ; and thou canst claim The shelter, from thy Sire, of an immortal name.
Side 98 - With fierce gusts and precipitating force, Through the white ridges of the chafed sea. The waves arose. Higher and higher still Their fierce necks writhed beneath the tempest's scourge Like serpents struggling in a vulture's grasp.
Side 128 - And then I clasped my hands and looked around, But none was near to mock my streaming eyes, Which poured their warm drops on the sunny ground — So without shame I spake : — "I will be wise, And just, and free, and mild, if in me lies Such power, for I grow weary to behold The selfish and the strong still tyrannize Without reproach or check.
Side 95 - And shook him from his rest, and led him forth Into the darkness. — As an eagle grasped In folds of the green serpent, feels her breast Burn with the poison, and precipitates Through night and day, tempest, and calm and cloud, Frantic with dizzying anguish, her blind flight O'er the wide aery wilderness...
Side 287 - Wind-winged emblem ! brightest, best and fairest ! Whence comest thou, when, with dark Winter's sadness The tears that fade in sunny smiles thou sharest ? Sister of joy, thou art the child who wearest Thy mother's dying smile, tender and sweet ; Thy mother Autumn, for whose grave thou bearest Fresh flowers, and beams like flowers, with gentle feet, Disturbing not the leaves which are her winding-sheet.
Side lxxvi - I was silent from astonishment: was it possible this mildlooking, beardless boy, could be the veritable monster at war with all the world ?—excommunicated by the Fathers of the Church, deprived of his civil rights by the fiat of a grim Lord Chancellor, discarded by every member of his family, and denounced by the rival sages of our literature as the founder of a Satanic school 1 I could not believe it; it must be a hoax.