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The dewdrops on every blade of grass are so much like silver drops that I am obliged to stoop down as I walk to see if they are pearls, and those sprinkled on the ivy-woven beds of primroses underneath the...
"_I lay my branch of laurel down_." "_THOU_ lay thy branch of _laurel_ down!" Why, what thou'st stole is not enow; And, were it lawfully thine own, Does Rogers want it most, or thou?
And thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon returned to...
How careful was I when I took my way, Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!
Orphan Hours, the Year is dead, Come and sigh, come and weep! Merry Hours, smile instead, For the Year is but asleep. See, it smiles as it is sleeping, Mocking your untimely weeping.
Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yelling Rise on the night-rolling breath of the blast, When o'er the dark aether the tempest is swelling, And on eddying whirlwind the thunder-peal passed?
I saw thee weep--the big bright tear Came o'er that eye of blue; And then methought it did appear A violet dropping dew: I saw...
Start not--nor deem my spirit fled: In me behold the only skull, From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull.
Sometimes a mortal feels in himself Nature -- not his Father but his Mother stirs within him, and he becomes immortal with her immortality. From time to time she claims kindredship with us, and some globule from her veins steals up into our own.
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface, In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd: Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place With beauty's treasure ere it be self-kill'd.
WHEN wild war’s deadly blast was blawn, And gentle peace returning, Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless, And mony a widow mourning; I left the lines and tented field, Where lang I’d been a lodger, My humble knapsack a’ my...
Fierce roars the midnight storm O'er the wild mountain, Dark clouds the night deform, Swift rolls the fountain-- See! o'er yon rocky height, Dim mists are flying-- See by the moon's pale light, Poor Laura's dying!
O universal Mother, who dost keep From everlasting thy foundations deep, Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of "Mother," Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-- You...
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted, Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion: An eye more bright than theirs, less false in...
(As revised by Mr. Locock.) Melodious Arethusa, o'er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of thy stream: (Two lines missing.) Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thou Glidest beneath the green and purple gleam Of Syracusan waters,...
I started Early -- Took my Dog -- And visited the Sea -- The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me --...
FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS. Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,-- Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears, For the beloved Bion is no more.
THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie; But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King— Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie.
Three times -- we parted -- Breath -- and I -- Three times -- He would not go -- But strove to stir the lifeless...
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit...
Joy to have merited the Pain -- To merit the Release -- Joy to have perished every step -- To Compass Paradise -- Pardon --...
_Once_ it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the midst of which all...
I peeled bits of straws and I got switches too From the grey peeling willow as idlers do, And I switched at the flies as I sat all alone Till my flesh, blood, and marrow was turned to dry bone.