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Albert arms Auranthe bear beauty blood breathe bright bring Brown close comes Conrad dare dark DEAR death Emperor Enter Erminia Ethelbert eyes face fair father fear feel fire flowers follow Gersa give Glocester hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour Italy JOHN KEATS Keats keep Knight lady leave letter light lips live look Lord Ludolph mean mind morning nature never noble once Otho pain pass perhaps Physician poem poor Prince quiet received remain returned SCENE seems seen Severn Sigifred sleep soft soon soul speak spirits star suffering sure sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought voice wings wish write written
Page 103 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny, and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain; Nor, when the spirit's self has ceased to burn, With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.
Page 99 - And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
Page 260 - I HAD a dove and the sweet dove died; And I have thought it died of grieving! O, what could it grieve for ? Its feet were tied, With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving; Sweet little red feet ! why should you die — Why should you leave me, sweet bird ! why?
Page 269 - I set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long, For sidelong would she bend, and sing A faery's song.
Page 291 - It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Page 269 - 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.
Page 108 - Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong, They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Page 301 - Why did I laugh to-night? No voice will tell: No God, no Demon of severe response Deigns to reply from heaven or from Hell — Then to my human heart I turn at once — Heart! thou and I are here sad and alone; Say, wherefore did I laugh?
Page 277 - They faded, and, forsooth! I wanted wings: O folly! What is Love? and where is it? And for that poor Ambition! it springs From a man's little heart's short fever-fit; For Poesy! — no, — she has not a joy, — At least for me, — so sweet as drowsy noons, And evenings steep'd in honied indolence; O, for an age so shelter'd from annoy, That I may never know how change the moons, Or hear the voice of busy common-sense! And once more came they by; — alas! wherefore?