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acquaintance admired affected appeared beauty become believe body called cause character circumstances common critics delight doubt England English eyes face fair feel felt gave genius give given greater hand hear heard heart hope human Hunt Italian Italy kind knew known lady least less letters Liberal light lived look Lord Byron manner matter mean mention mind Moore nature never noble object occasion once opinion passage perhaps person pleasure poem poet poetry political present published reader reason regard remarkable respect Review seemed seen sense sent Shelley Shelley's side sort speak spirit supposed sure taken talk tell thing thought tion told took true truth turn whole wish write written young
Page 429 - While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd ; With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrups, tinct with cinnamon ; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez ; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
Page 437 - 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, To take into the air my quiet breath; 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 ecstasy! • Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.
Page 435 - Ode to a Nightingale 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: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Page 436 - 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 436 - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
Page 437 - As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
Page 411 - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 340 - The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.