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| Lyrica - die Lyrik-Datenbank |
| Englische Lyrik seit 1066 |
| Titel | Gedicht | Vorname | Nachname | | Ode on a Grecian Urn | Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In tempe or the dales of Arcady ?
What men or gods are these ? What maidens loth ?
What mad persuit ? What struggle to escape ?
What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecstacy ?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal - yet do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair !
Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love ! more happy, happy love !
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice ?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ?
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn ?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape ! Fair attitude ! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form ! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold pastoral !
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. | John | Keats |
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| Einführung in die Lyrik |
| Lyrik, (zu griechisch lyra: Leier), neben Epik und Dramatik eine der drei Hauptgattungen der Dichtung. Entscheidende Aspekte der Lyrik sind sprachlicher Rhythmus und - zumindest bis ins 20. Jahrhundert - strukturierendes Versmaß und Reim. Ein weiteres Gliederungsmerkmal ist die Strophe. Als lyrisches Ich wird jenes im Gedicht auftretende fiktive Subjekt bezeichnet, das als empfindender Erlebnisträger der in der 1. Person Singular geschriebenen Lyrik fungiert. |
| ... weiter. |
| 17.07.2001; Robert Morten |
| | Nachname: | Keats | | Vorname: | John | | Titel: | Stanzas ... | | erste Zeile: | In a drear-nighted december ... | | Gedicht: |
In a drear-nighted december,
Too happy, happy tree
Thy branches ne'er remember
Their green felicity :
The north cannot undo them,
With a sleety whistle through them;
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.
In a drear-nighted december,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne'er remember
Apollo's summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.
Ah! would 'twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy !
But were there ever any
Writhed not at passèd joy ?
To know the change and feel it,
When there is none to heal it,
Nor numbèd sense to steal it,
Was never said in rhyme. | | Titel_d: | | | Gedicht_d: | | | Nutzer: | 0 | | E-Mail: | robert.morten@t-online.de | | Autoren-Website: | - | | Quelle: | - | | Erfassungsdatum: | Montag, 27.August.2001, 19:41 | | Rubrik: | England | | Stil: | Romantik |
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