The Complete Works of John Keats, Volume 5

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Gowans & Gray, 1820 - Authors, English
V. I. Poems published in 1817. Endymion -- v. II. Lamia. Isabella, &c. Posthumous poems to 1818 -- v. III. Posthumous poems 1819-1820. Essays & notes -- v. IV. Letters 1814 to Jan. 1819 -- v. V. Letters 1819 & 1820.
 

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Page 58 - ... streams, and birds, and bees. The moss-lain Dryads shall be lull'd to sleep; And in the midst of this wide quietness A rosy sanctuary will I dress With the wreath'd trellis of a working brain. With buds, and bells, and stars without a name, With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign, Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night. To let the warm Love in!
Page 49 - And there she lulled me asleep And there I dream'd — Ah! woe betide! The latest dream I ever dream'd On the cold hill side. 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!
Page 9 - I see by little and little more of what is to be done, and how it is to be done, should I ever be able to do it.
Page 54 - Do you not see how necessary a World of Pains and troubles is to school an Intelligence and make it a Soul?
Page 49 - 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 withered from the lake, And no birds sing.
Page 36 - This morning I am in a sort of temper, indolent and supremely careless; I long after a stanza or two of Thomson's Castle of Indolence; my passions are all asleep, from my having slumbered till nearly eleven, and weakened the animal fibre all over me, to a delightful sensation, about three degrees on this side of faintness. If I had teeth of pearl, and the breath...
Page 53 - Soul as distinguished from an Intelligence. There may be intelligences or sparks of the divinity in millions — but they are not Souls till they acquire identities, till each one is personally itself.
Page 36 - Castle of Indolence." My passions are all asleep, from my having slumbered till nearly eleven and weakened the animal fibre all over me to a delightful sensation about three degrees on this side of faintness. If I had teeth of pearl and the breath of lilies I should call it languor, but as I am (especially as I have a black eye) I must call it laziness.
Page 83 - If I strive to fill it more it would burst. I know the generality of women would hate me for this; that I should have so unsoften'd, so hard a Mind as to forget them, forget the brightest realities for the dull imaginations of my own Brain. But I conjure you to give it a fair thinking, and ask yourself whether 'tis not better to explain my feelings to you than write artificial Passion.
Page 200 - Oh, God! God! God! Everything I have in my trunks that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear. The silk lining she put in my travelling cap scalds my head. My imagination is horribly vivid about her — I see her — I hear her. There is nothing in the world of sufficient interest to divert me from her a moment.

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