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Lyrica - die Lyrik-Datenbank |
Englische Lyrik seit 1066 |
Titel | Gedicht | Vorname | Nachname | Feelings of a Republican on the Fall of Bonaparte | I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan To think that a most unambitious slave, Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on the grave Of Liberty. Thou mightst have built thy throne Where it had stood even now: thou didst prefer A frail and bloody pomp which Time has swept In fragments towards Oblivion. Massacre, For this I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept, Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Lust, And stifled thee, their minister. I know Too late, since thou and France are in the dust, That Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time. | Percy Bysshe | Shelley |
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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 |
| 13 ausgewählte Einträge: | | 1 | | 13 | | | |
| Nachname | Vorname | Titel | erste Zeile | Keats | John | Stanzas ... | In a drear-nighted december ... |
Keats | John | Ode on a Grecian Urn | Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness ... |
Keats | John | When I have fears ... | When I have fears that I may cease to be ... |
Keats | John | La belle Dame sans merci | Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | O wild West Wind | O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | The Indian Serenade | I arise from dreams of thee ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | Alastor: Or, the Spirit of Solitude | Earth, Ocean, Air, belovèd brotherhood! |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | Feelings of a Republican on the Fall of Bonaparte | I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did ... |
Shelley | Percy Besshy | To Wordsworth | Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | Lift not the painted veil which those who live | Lift not the painted veil which those who live ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | England in 1819 | An old, mad, blind, despis'd, and dying king ... |
Shelley | Percy Bysshe | Time | Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years ...
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