Those bless'd structures, plot and rhyme why are they no help to me now I want to make something imagined, not recalled? I hear the noise of my own voice: The painter's vision is not a lens,...
Go, words of mine! and if you live Only for one brief, little day; If peace, or joy, or calm you give To any soul; or if you bring A something higher to some heart, I may come back again and sing...
There is a world Life dreams of, long since lost: Invisible save only to the heart: That spreads its cloudy islands, without chart, Above the Earth,'mid oceans none has crossed:...
Perplexing case! your pardon, Friends, I pray, My head so turns, I know not what to say; However, since I've dared to come before ye, I'll stop the whirligig, ("Clapping his hand to his forehead_,)...
The day is done; and, lo! the shades Melt 'neath Diana's mellow grace. Hark, how those deep, designing maids Feign terror in this sylvan place! Come, friends, it's time that we should go;...
These, to you now, O, more than ever now - Now that the Ancient Enemy Has passed, and we, we two that are one, have seen A piece of perfect Life Turn to so ravishing a shape of Death...
Here check we our career: Long books I greatly fear. I would not quite exhaust my stuff; The flower of subjects is enough. To me, the time is come, it seems, To draw my breath for other themes....
Beyond the moon, within a land of mist, Lies the dim Garden of all Dead Desires, Walled round with morning's clouded amethyst, And haunted of the sunset's shadowy fires;...
HOLD! hold, my good friends; for one moment, pray stop ye, I return ye my thanks, in the name of poor Hoppy. He's not the first person who never did write, And yet has been fed by a benefit-night....
I. On the first of the Feast of Feasts, The Dedication Day, When the Levites joined the Priests At the Altar in robed array, Gave signal to sound and say, ...
Hold! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense; I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience. My pride forbids it ever should be said, My heels eclips'd the honours of my head;...
We act by fits and starts, like drowning men, But just peep up, and then pop down again. Let those who call us wicked change their sense; For never men lived more on Providence....