Phoebus make haste, the day's too long, begone, The silent night's the fittest time for moan; But stay this once, unto my suit give ear, And tell my griefs in either Hemisphere:...
By poets we are well assured That love, alas! can ne'er be cured; A complicated heap of ills, Despising boluses and pills. Ah! Chloe, this I find is true,...
As Cloe came into the Room t'other Day, I peevish began; Where so long cou'd You stay? In your Life-time You never regarded your Hour: You promis'd at Two; and (pray look Child) 'tis Four....
From off a hill whose concave womb reworded A plaintful story from a sistering vale, My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;...
Tangled in thought am I, Stumble in speech do I? Do I blunder and blush for the reason why? Wander aloof do I, Lean over gates and sigh, Making friends with the bee and the butterfly? ...
When a lover hies abroad Looking for his love, Azrael smiling sheathes his sword, Heaven smiles above. Earth and sea His servants be, And to lesser compass round, That his love be sooner found!
It seems a year, and more, since last we met, Since roseate spring repaid, in part, its debt To thy bright eyes, and o'er the lowlands fair Made daffodils so like thy golden hair...
Glory to thee, my Queen! whom far away My thoughts aspire to,--as the birds of May Aspire o' mornings,--as in lonely nooks The gurgling murmurs of neglected brooks...
O thou refulgent essence of all grace! O thou that with the witchery of thy face Hast made of me thy servant unto death, I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath,...
Oh, smile on me, thou syren of my soul! That I may curb my thoughts to some control And not offend thee, as in truth I do, Morning, and noon and night, when I pursue...
Dearest and best of maidens, whom the Fates have dower'd with beauty, whom the glory-gates Have shown so splendid in my waking sight, Is't well, thou syren! thus to haunt the night...
Vouchsafe, my Lady! by the passion-flower, And by the glamour of a moonlit hour, And by the cries and sighs of all the birds That sing o'nights, to heed again the words...
Arise, fair Phoebus! and with looks serene Survey the world which late the orb'd Queen Did pave with pearl to please enamour'd swains. Arise! Arise! The Dark is bound in chains,...
I tell thee Sweet! there lives not on the earth A love like mine in all the height and girth And all the vast completion of the sphere. I should be proud, to-day, to shed a tear...
O Love! O Lustre of the sunlit earth That knows thy step and revels in the worth Of thy much beauty! Is't thy will anew, Famed as thou art, to marvel that I sue...
Again, O Love! again I make lament, And, Arab-like, I pitch my summer-tent Outside the gateways of the Lord of Song. I weep and wait, contented all day long...
Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love's away!...
When winter comes and takes away the rose, And all the singing of sweet birds is done, The warm and honeyed world lost deep in snows, Still, independent of the summer sun, In vain, with sullen roar,...