Hot through Troy's ruin Menelaus broke To Priam's palace, sword in hand, to sate On that adulterous whore a ten years' hate And a king's honour. Through red death, and smoke,...
Men of the High North, the wild sky is blazing; Islands of opal float on silver seas; Swift splendors kindle, barbaric, amazing; Pale ports of amber, golden argosies....
Little cullud Rastus come a-skippin' down de street, A-smilin' and a-grinnin' at every one he meet; My, oh! He was happy! Boy, but was he gay! Wishin' 'Merry Chris'mus' an' 'Happy New-Year's Day'!...
Grateful is Sleep, my life in stone bound fast; More grateful still: while wrong and shame shall last, On me can Time no happier state bestow Than to be left unconscious of the woe....
If this importunate heart trouble your peace With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease; Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say,...
I hear the Shadowy Horses, their long manes a-shake, Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white; The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night,...
There stands a hostel by a travelled way; Life is the road and Death the worthy host; Each guest he greets, nor ever lacks to say, "How have ye fared?" They answer him, the most,...
'A poet'! He hath put his heart to school, Nor dares to move unpropped upon the staff Which Art hath lodged within his hand must laugh By precept only, and shed tears by rule....
Portentous change when History can appear As the cool Advocate of foul device; Reckless audacity extol, and jeer At consciences perplexed with scruples nice! They who bewail not, must abhor, the sneer...
Aw like fowrk to succeed i' life if they've an honest aim, An even if they chonce to trip awm varry loath to blame; Its sich a simple thing sometimes maks failure or success,...
Who stops the Minister of State, When hurrying to the Lords' debate? Who, spite of gravity beguiles, The solemn Bishop of his smiles? See from the window, "burly big," The Judge pops out his awful wig,...
Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns! I have been changed to a hound with one red ear; I have been in the Path of Stones and the Wood of Thorns,...
I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young And weep because I know all things now: I have been a hazel tree and they hung The Pilot Star and the Crooked Plough Among my leaves in times out of mind:...
How cold is that bosom which folly once fired, How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten'd! How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired, How dull is that ear which to flattery so listen'd! ...