Long in the lap of childhood didst thou sleep, Think how thy youth like chaff did disappear; Shall life's sweet Spring forever last? Look up, Old age approaches ominously near....
I weep for Adonais - he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head! And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years...
The dew was gone, The morn was bright, the skies were fair, The flowers smiled neath the sunbeams ray, Tall cedars grew in beauty there. As Adoniram took his way, To Lebanon. ...
I' got no patience with blues at all! And I ust to kindo talk Aginst 'em, and claim, 'tel along last Fall, They was none in the fambly stock; But a nephew of mine, from Eelinoy,...
All Afric, winged with death and fire, Pants in our pleasant English air. Each blade of grass is tense as wire, And all the wood's loose trembling hair Stark in the broad and breathless glare...
Hence Burgundy, Claret, and Port, Away with old Hock and madeira, Too earthly ye are for my sport; There's a beverage brighter and clearer. Instead of a piriful rummer, My wine overbrims a whole summer;...
He lived beyond men, and so stood Admitted to the brotherhood Of beauty: - dreams, with which he trod Companioned like some sylvan god. And oft men wondered, when his thought...
I just had turned the classic page. And traced that happy period over, When blest alike were youth and age, And love inspired the wisest sage, And wisdom graced the tenderest lover. ...
Mellow hazes, lowly trailing Over wood and meadow, veiling Somber skies, with wildfowl sailing Sailor-like to foreign lands; And the north-wind overleaping Summer's brink, and floodlike sweeping...
I dreamed that each most lovely, perfect thing That Nature hath, of sound, and form, and hue - The winds, the grass, the light-concentering dew, The gleam and swiftness of the sea-bird's wing;...
I dreamed I was in fair Niphon. Amid tea-fields I journeyed on, Reclined in my jinrikishaw; Across the rolling plains I saw The lordly Fusi-yama rise,...
I Dreamed that one had died in a strange place Near no accustomed hand, And they had nailed the boards above her face, The peasants of that land, Wondering to lay her in that solitude,...
"The longer one lives, the more one learns," Said I, as off to sleep I went, Bemused with thinking of Tithe concerns, And reading a book by the Bishop of FERNS,[1]...
The exhaustion of prison is taking its toll. All the days and the nights arc anguish. Every hope, every passion that stirred my soul My confinement strives to extinguish....
Lying listless in the mosses Underneath a tree that tosses Flakes of sunshine, and embosses Its green shadow with the snow - Drowsy-eyed, I sink in slumber Born of fancies without number -...