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Abbey able affectionate appears bear beautiful believe BRAWNE Brother Brown Charles continually copy course dear Dilke doubt expect eyes Fanny feel George give given Hampstead hand happy Haydon head hear heard heart hope interest Italy John Keats Keats's keep Kentish Town Lady lately leave letter lines live look Lord matter mean mentioned mind Miss month morning mother nature never night once original pass perhaps person play pleasure poem Postmark present reason received reference remember Reynolds seen sent side sister soon sort soul speak spirits Street sweet taken tell thing thought took town trouble turn walk Wentworth Place whole Winchester wish write written wrote yesterday young
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.