The Poetical Works of John Keats: With a Life (Google eBook)

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Little, Brown, 1863 - 438 pages
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Page 306 - MY HEART aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Page 233 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Page 306 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
Page 308 - Darkling I listen ; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme...
Page 326 - I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story Said he saw you in your glory Underneath a...
Page 308 - Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain,~ While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstacy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain To thy high requiem become a sod.
Page 410 - I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried "La belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!" I saw their starved lips in the gloam With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke and found me here On the cold hill's side. And this is why I sojourn here Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing.
Page xix - And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority...
Page 382 - To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
Page 216 - She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors, Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire For Madeline. Beside the portal doors...

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