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" Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up... "
The Poetical Works of John Keats - Page 256
by John Keats - 1863 - 301 pages
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The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life, Or, Selections from Fields Old and New

Susan Fenimore Cooper - 1855 - 478 pages
...self ! Adien ! the fancy can not cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adien ! adien ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows,...dream ' Fled is that music — do I wake or sleep ? Jons KEAIS, 1796-1S20. THE NIGHTINGALE. FitOH IHI D17TCH. Prize thou the nightingale, Wlm soothes...
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Poetry: selected for the use of schools and families by A. Bowman

Anne Bowman - 1856 - 316 pages
...perilous seas, in faery lauds forlorn. VIII. Forlorn ! the very word ia like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self ! Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat...valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream 1 Fled is that music : — do I wake or sleep ? KEATS. AUTUMN. WHKN autumn, bleak and sunburnt, do...
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The modern reader and speaker

David Charles Bell - 1856 - 466 pages
...perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn. " Forlorn !" — The very sound is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self .' Adieu ! — The fancy cannot...hill-side ; — and now, 'tis buried deep In the next valley's glades : — * Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music ! — Do I wake or sleep...
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Sketches of the Poetical Literature of the Past Half-century

David Macbeth Moir - 1856 - 358 pages
...perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn. Forlorn ! the very word is like a spell To toll one back from thee to my sole self! Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat...is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintiff anthem fades Past the near meadow, over the hill stream, Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis...
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The Rhyme and Reason of Country Life

1856 - 482 pages
...the very word is like a bell, To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu ! the fancy can not cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Fast the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis buried deep In the next...
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Sketches of the Poetical Literature of the Past Half-century

David Macbeth Moir - 1856 - 362 pages
...over the hill stream, Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley's glades : Waa it a vision or a waking dream ? Fled is that music ; — do I wake or sleep ? " In his earlier pieces Keats was too extramundaue — too fond of the visionary. His fancy and feelings...
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The Catholic Institute Magazine, Volume 1

1856 - 390 pages
...is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adien ! adien ! thy plaintive anthem fades Рaк! the near meadow*, over the still stream, Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley -glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream ? Fled in that musió : — do I wake or sleep...
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The Poetical Works of John Keats

John Keats - 1856 - 326 pages
...pei-ilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. 8. Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self ! Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis buried deep In the next...
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Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, Volume 2

Mary Russell Mitford - 1857 - 374 pages
...perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn. Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu ! the Fancy cannot cheat...dream ? Fled is that music : — do I wake or sleep ? A most interesting Life of Keats, by Mr. Monckton Milnes, has been recently published. Few works...
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The Poets of the Nineteenth Century

Robert Aris Willmott - 1857 - 426 pages
...self! Adien ! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adien ! adicu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows,...dream ? Fled is that music : — do I wake or sleep 1 COLERIDGE. LOVE. All are but ministers of Love, And feed hin sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams...
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