Had you lived when a tyrant king Strove to make all the slaves of one, With nobles and with churchmen you Had stood unflinching, pure and true, To annihilate that hateful thing...
A carrion crow sat on an oak, Watching a tailor shape his cloak. "Wife, bring me my old bent bow, That I may shoot yon carrion crow." The tailor he shot and missed his mark,...
A carrion crow sat on an oak, Watching a tailor shape his cloak. "Wife, bring me my old bent bow, That I may shoot yon carrion crow." The tailor he shot and missed his mark,...
This sentence have I left behind: An aching body, and a mind Not wholly clear, nor wholly blind, Too keen to rest, too weak to find, That travails sore, and brings forth wind,...
"A soldier of the Union mustered out," Is the inscription on an unknown grave At Newport News, beside the salt-sea wave, Nameless and dateless; sentinel or scout Shot down in skirmish, or disastrous rout...
Most good, most faire, Or Thing as rare, To call you's lost; For all the cost Words can bestow, So poorely show Vpon your prayse, That all the wayes Sense hath, come short:...
Haply some Rajah first in the ages gone Amid his languid ladies fingered thee, While a black nightingale, sun-swart as he, Sang his one wife, love's passionate oraison;...
Where once we danced, where once sang, Gentlemen, The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang, And cracks creep; worms have fed upon The doors. Yea, sprightlier times were then...
"Teach me the wisdom of thy beauty, pray, That, being thus wise, I may aspire to see What beauty is, whence, why, and in what way Immortal, yet how mortal utterly: For, shrinking loveliness, thy brow of day...
How sweet it were, if without feeble fright, Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight, An angel came to us, and we could bear To see him issue from the silent air At evening in our room, and bend on ours...
Now as an angler melancholy standing Upon a green bank yielding room for landing, A wriggling yellow worm thrust on his hook, Now in the midst he throws, then in a nook:...
While one philosopher[2] affirms That by our senses we're deceived, Another[3] swears, in plainest terms, The senses are to be believed. The twain are right. Philosophy...
Whilst one philosopher tells us that men are constantly the dupes of their own senses, another will swear that the senses never deceive. Both are right. Philosophy truly affirms that the senses will deceive so long as men are c...
It was at the very date to which we have come, In the month of the matching name, When, at a like minute, the sun had upswum, Its couch-time at night being the same....
Dear Sherry, I'm sorry for your bloodsheded sore eye, And the more I consider your case, still the more I Regret it, for see how the pain on't has wore ye. Besides, the good Whigs, who strangely adore ye,...