What do I care about the swift newspaper boys. The approach of the late auto-beasts does not frighten me. I rest on my moving legs. My face is wet with rain. Green remains of the night Stick to my eyes....
Hastings! I knew thee young, and of a mind, While young, humane, conversable, and kind, Nor can I well believe thee, gentle then, Now grown a villain, and the worst of men....
Beautiful flowers! with your petals bright, Ye float on the waves like spirits of light, Wooing the zephyr that ruffles your leaves With a gentle sigh, like a lover that grieves,...
From the brake the Nightingale Sings exulting to the Rose; Though he sees her waxing pale In her passionate repose, While she triumphs waxing frail, Fading even while she glows; Though he knows...
Farewell, Macready, since to-night we part; Full-handed thunders often have confessed Thy power, well-used to move the public breast. We thank thee with our voice, and from the heart....
To weave a garland for the rose. And think thus crown'd 'twould lovelier be, Were far less vain than to suppose That silks and gems add grace to thee. Where is the pearl whose orient lustre...
Oh tell me not of the lands so old Where the Orient treasures its hills of gold, And the rivers lie in the sun's bright rays Forever singing the old world's praise. Nor proudly boast of the gardens grand...
To what serves mortal beauty | dangerous; does set danc- ing blood the O-seal-that-so | feature, flung prouder form Than Purcell tune lets tread to? | See: it does this: keeps warm...
A white face, drooping, on a bending neck: A tube-rose that with heavy petal curves Her stem: a foam-bell on a wave that swerves Back from the undulating vessel's deck. ...
The larks are loud above our leagues of whin Now the sun's perfume fills their glorious gold With odour like the colour: all the wold Is only light and song and wind wherein...
Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe All that I am in arts, all that I know (How nothing's that!), to whom my country owes The great renown and name wherewith she goes;...
Attend to Chaulieu's wanton lyre; While, fluent as the sky-lark sings When first the morn allures it's wings, The epicure his theme pursues: And tell me if, among the choir...
Dear architect of fine chateaux in air, Worthier to stand for ever, if they could, Than any built of stone or yet of wood, For back of royal elephant to bear!
Statesman, I thank thee! and, if yet dissent Mingles, reluctant, with my large content, I cannot censure what was nobly meant. But, while constrained to hold even Union less...
Champion of those who groan beneath Oppression's iron hand: In view of penury, hate, and death, I see thee fearless stand. Still bearing up thy lofty brow, In the steadfast strength of truth,...
1. The billows on the beach are leaping around it, The bark is weak and frail, The sea looks black, and the clouds that bound it Darkly strew the gale. Come with me, thou delightful child,...
I gat your letter, winsome Willie; Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie; Tho' I maun say't, I wad be silly, An' unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin' billie,...