The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Band 2E. Moxon, 1847 |
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Seite 10
... weeping and lustreless , but beautifully tender and serene . In the whole mien there is a simplicity and dignity which , united with her exquisite loveliness and deep sorrow , are inexpressibly pathetic . Beatrice Cenci appears to have ...
... weeping and lustreless , but beautifully tender and serene . In the whole mien there is a simplicity and dignity which , united with her exquisite loveliness and deep sorrow , are inexpressibly pathetic . Beatrice Cenci appears to have ...
Seite 17
... weeps within Tears bitterer than the bloody sweat of Christ . I rarely kill the body , which preserves , Like a strong prison , the soul within my power , Wherein I feed it with the breath of fear For hourly pain . CAMILLO . Hell's most ...
... weeps within Tears bitterer than the bloody sweat of Christ . I rarely kill the body , which preserves , Like a strong prison , the soul within my power , Wherein I feed it with the breath of fear For hourly pain . CAMILLO . Hell's most ...
Seite 30
... Weep not , my gentle boy ; he struck but me , Who have borne deeper wrongs . In truth , if he Had killed me , he had done a kinder deed . Oh , God Almighty , do thou look upon us , We have no other friend but only thee ! Yet weep not ...
... Weep not , my gentle boy ; he struck but me , Who have borne deeper wrongs . In truth , if he Had killed me , he had done a kinder deed . Oh , God Almighty , do thou look upon us , We have no other friend but only thee ! Yet weep not ...
Seite 40
... weep at his decree ; A friend who should weave counsel , as I now , But as the mantle of some selfish guile ; A father who is all a tyrant seems , Were the profaner for his sacred name GIACOMO . Ask me not what I think ; the unwilling ...
... weep at his decree ; A friend who should weave counsel , as I now , But as the mantle of some selfish guile ; A father who is all a tyrant seems , Were the profaner for his sacred name GIACOMO . Ask me not what I think ; the unwilling ...
Seite 44
... weeping there , And standing calm and motionless , whilst I Slide giddily as the world reels . - My God ! The beautiful blue heaven is flecked with blood ! The sunshine on the floor is black ! The air Is changed to vapours such as the ...
... weeping there , And standing calm and motionless , whilst I Slide giddily as the world reels . - My God ! The beautiful blue heaven is flecked with blood ! The sunshine on the floor is black ! The air Is changed to vapours such as the ...
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AHASUERUS Apennine art thou BEATRICE beneath BERNARDO blood BOAR Boeotia breath bright calm CAMILLO CENCI child clouds cold Colonna Palace crime curse dæmon dare dark dead dear death deed deep despair Devil dream earth Exeunt eyes father fear flowers folding star gentle GIACOMO grave Greece grew grief hair hate hear heard heart heaven hell hope hues human innocent Iona Italy knew lady light lips live look Lord LUCRETIA Maddalo MAHMUD MAMMON MARZIO mighty mind MINOTAUR Mont Blanc moon mountains never night o'er OLIMPIO ORSINO pain pale parricide Peter Bell pigs poem PURGANAX Rosalind ruin SAVELLA scene scorn SEMICHORUS shadow Shelley slave sleep smile soul speak spirit strange sweet SWELLFOOT swine tears Thebes thee thine things thou art thought truth tyrant voice waves weep Whilst wild wind words wretched
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 166 - The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream.
Seite 418 - Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; Hear, oh, hear!
Seite 214 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks...
Seite 227 - It visits with inconstant glance Each human heart and countenance; Like hues and harmonies of evening, Like clouds in starlight widely spread, Like memory of music fled, Like aught that for its grace may be Dear, and yet dearer for its mystery. Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone? Why dost thou pass away, and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate...
Seite 417 - O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill...
Seite 230 - THE everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark — now glittering — now reflecting gloom — Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings Of waters, — with a sound but half its own...
Seite 348 - THE sun is warm, the sky is clear. The waves are dancing fast and bright Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon's transparent might, The breath of the moist earth is light, Around its unexpanded buds ; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's.
Seite 412 - An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king, Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn, - mud from a muddy spring, Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know, But leech-like to their fainting country cling...
Seite 319 - He is a person of the most consummate genius, and capable, if he would direct his energies to such an end, of becoming the redeemer of his degraded country. But it is his weakness to be proud : he derives, from a comparison of his own extraordinary mind with the dwarfish intellects that surround him, an intense apprehension of the nothingness of human life.
Seite 257 - Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed : And on the pedestal these words appear : 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair !