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" 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... "
Chambers's Pocket Miscellany - Page 74
1854
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Leaves from the Poets' Laurels

American poetry - 1869 - 220 pages
...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 ecstacy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou...
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A Household Book of English Poetry, Issue 160

1870 - 438 pages
...rhyme, . To take into the air my quiet breath ; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, 55 To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring...ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. 60 Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I...
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Dear Juliette: Letters of May Sarton to Juliette Huxley

Juliette Huxley - Biography & Autobiography - 1999 - 400 pages
...like. The Berg must be bursting with confessions — cries for help — and all the symphonies of love, "while thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad in such an ecstasy." And here now is a glimmer of sun, timid and vanishing in snow clouds. Time for lunch — which is the...
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Now More Than Ever

Aldous Huxley, David Bradshaw, James Sexton - Drama - 2000 - 95 pages
...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...ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. LIDGATE: I say, that's wonderful. May I just look? (Takes the book from BARMBY.J "Now more than ever...
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The Masks of Keats: The Endeavour of a Poet

Thomas McFarland, Murray Professor of English Literature Emeritus Thomas McFarland - Literary Criticism - 2000 - 244 pages
...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...have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.~7 Keats's actual death, in cruel and bitter irony, was anything but a ceasing upon the midnight...
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Orphic song with Daedal harmony: die "Musik" in Texten der englischen und ...

Pia-Elisabeth Leuschner - Comparative literature - 2000 - 246 pages
...But [...] guess each sweet [...]" („Ode to the Nightingale" (Anm. 667) v. 41 und 43). Ebd.: „Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! / No hungry generations tread thee down; [...]" (v. 61 f). ' Vgl. auch Fry: „[...] the echo of a word already spoken, reduces words from signs...
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Not One of Them in Place: Modern Poetry and Jewish American Identity

Norman Finkelstein - Literary Criticism - 2001 - 194 pages
...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...ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod. Here, death takes on all the appeal of luxurious, eroticized vitality, in contrast to the sphere of...
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Feeling and Imagination: The Vibrant Flux of Our Existence

Irving Singer - Psychology - 2001 - 223 pages
...expression of its own happiness, he feels that "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!" This idea of death as an apogee of total consummation in the experience that precedes it also appears...
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The Cambridge Companion to Keats

Susan J. Wolfson, Wolfson Susan J. - Literary Criticism - 2001 - 272 pages
...pain," then the richness of his thought is immediately nullified by the realism of mortal extinction: "Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain - / To thy high requiem become a sod," he laments to the nightingale (55-60). In To Autumn we read a series of statements about the season's...
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Tradition and the Individual Poem: An Inquiry Into Anthologies

Anne Ferry - Literary Criticism - 2001 - 289 pages
..."What thou art we know not." In the last poem, Keats's "Ode to a Nightingale," the poet, listening "While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad /In such an ecstasy!," thinks of his own mortality, and that reflection leads him to accuse the "immortal Bird" as a "deceiving...
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