O you that were eyes and light to the King till he past away From the darkness of life' He saw not his daughter'he blest her: the blind King sees you to-day, He blesses the wife.
JOHN courts Perrette; but all in vain; Love's sweetest oaths, and tears, and sighs All potent spells her heart to gain The ardent lover vainly tries: Fruitless his arts to make her waver,...
"Give me only a fragment of earth beyond the earth's limits," So the godlike man said, "and I will move it with ease." Only give me permission to leave myself for one moment,...
Madam, you have done well! Let others with praise unholy, Speech addressed to a woman who never breathed upon earth, Daub you over with lies or deafen your ears with folly,...
Be tranquil, Dellius, I pray; For though you pine your life away With dull complaining breath, Or speed with song and wine each day, Still, still your doom is death. ...
Poet, whose words are like the tight-packed seed Sealed in the capsule of a silver flower, Still at your art we wonder as we read, The art dynamic charging each word with power. ...
The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame, Breathes once and, quench'd faster than it came, Leaves yet the mind a mother of immortal song....
'Tis not too late to build our young land right, Cleaner than Holland, courtlier than Japan, Devout like early Rome, with hearths like hers, Hearths that will recreate the breed called man.
What ogive gates from gold of Ophir wrought, What walls of bastioned Parian, lucid rose, What marts of crystal, for the eyes of Thought Hast builded on what Islands of Repose!...
Thee, dear friend, a brother soothes, Not with flatteries, but truths, Which tarnish not, but purify To light which dims the morning's eye. I have come from the spring-woods,...
"I saw a sky of stars that rolled in grime. All glory twinkled through some sweat of fight, From each tall chimney of the roaring time That shot his fire far up the sooty night...
What you give me, I cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money these, as I rendezvous with my poems; A traveler's lodging and breakfast as I journey through The States,...
It lies before me there, and my own breath Stirs its thin outer threads, as though beside The living head I stood in honoured pride, Talking of lovely things that conquer death....