My dear Deceased Wife's Sister, - (The wife of my bosom being still happily amongst us, The above, As the learned might say, Is a misnomer. You, on the other hand, Are a Miss - - ,...
Because thou hast believ'd, the wheels of life Stand never idle, but go always round: Not by their hands, who vex the patient ground, Mov'd only; but by genius, in the strife...
When my date's done, and my grey age must die, Nurse up, great lord, this my posterity: Weak though it be, long may it grow and stand, Shored up by you, brave Earl of Westmoreland.
You are at least a man, of men a king. You have a heart, and with that heart you love. The race you come from is not gendered of The filthy sty whose latest litter cling...
Stand up, you Strong! Touch glasses! To the Weak! The Weak who fight: or habit or disease, Birth, chance, or ignorance, or awful wreak Of some lost forbear, who has drained the cup...
To the garden, the world, anew ascending, Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber;...
With laughter always on the darkest day, She danced before the very face of dread, Starry companion of my mortal way, Pre-destined merrily to be my mate, With eyes as calm, she met the eyes of Fate:...
Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursued Thy pastime? when wast thou an egg new spawn'd, Lost in the immensity of ocean's waste? Roar as they might, the overbearing winds...
Welcome, most welcome to our vows and us, Most great and universal genius! The drooping West, which hitherto has stood As one in long-lamented widowhood, Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers...
Welcome, great C'sar, welcome now you are As dearest peace after destructive war: Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease After our long and peevish sicknesses. O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come...
Come, sit we under yonder tree, Where merry as the maids we'll be; And as on primroses we sit, We'll venture, if we can, at wit; If not, at draw-gloves we will play, So spend some minutes of the day;...
Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm, Waking renew'd on thy prodigious pinions, (Burst the wild storm? above it thou ascended'st, And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee,)...
My dear Sir, - I suppose you are having an excellent time just now. There are a large number of counties In England and Scotland, And I am not acquainted with one of them Wherein your bang-bang...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither man nor muse can praise too much;...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither man nor Muse can praise too much....
By duty bound, and not by custome led To celebrate the praises of the dead, My mournfull mind, sore prest, in trembling verse Presents my Lamentations at his Herse, Who was my Father, Guide, Instructor too,...
And live I still to see relations gone, And yet survive to sound this wailing tone; Ah, woe is me, to write thy Funeral Song, Who might in reason yet have lived long,...