In the eclipses of your soul, and when you cry "O God! give more of rest and less of night," My words may rest you; and mayhap a light Shall flash from them bright o'er thy spirit's sky;...
To the Elect of Love, - or side-by-side In raptest ecstasy, or sundered wide By seas that bear no message to or fro Between the loved and lost of long ago.
The morning wakes in shadowy mantle gray, The darksome woods their glimmering skirts unfold, Prone from the cliff the falcon wheels her way, And long and loud the bell's slow chime is tolled. ...
Let none misgive we died amiss When here we strove in furious fight: Furious it was; nathless was this Better than tranquil plight, And tame surrender of the Cause Hallowed by hearts and by the laws....
The Eagle, stooping from yon snow-blown peaks, For the wild hunter and the Bison seeks, In the changed world below; and finds alone Their graven semblance in the eternal stone
Enter this cavern Stranger! the ascent Is long and steep and toilsome; here awhile Thou mayest repose thee, from the noontide heat O'ercanopied by this arch'd rock that strikes...
For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger'd. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist;...
Ye Lime-trees, ranged before this hallowed Urn, Shoot forth with lively power at Spring's return; And be not slow a stately growth to rear Of pillars, branching off from year to year,...
Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones Is not a Ruin spared or made by time, Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem'st, the Cairn Of some old British Chief: 'tis nothing more...
Of all that William rules, or robe Describes, great Rhea, of thy globe, When or on posthorse or in chaise, With much expense and little ease, My destin'd miles I shall have gone,...
Will you not buy? She asks you, my lord, you Who know the points desirable in such. She does not say that she is perfect. True, She's not too pleasant to the sight or touch. But then - neither are you! ...
Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy, Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly, Or the drifting foam of a restless sea...
In the long run fame finds the deserving man. The lucky wight may prosper for a day, But in good time true merit leads the van And vain pretence, unnoticed, goes its way....