Lord how many are my foes How many those That in arms against me rise Many are they That of my life distrustfully thus say, No help for him in God there lies. But thou Lord art my shield my glory,...
Land of the willful gospel, thou worst and thou best; Tall Adam of lands, new-made of the dust of the West; Thou wroughtest alone in the Garden of God, unblest...
Lord my God to thee I flie Save me and secure me under Thy protection while I crie Least as a Lion (and no wonder) He hast to tear my Soul asunder Tearing and no rescue nigh. ...
Walpole talks of "a man and his price." List to a ditty queer, The sale of a Deputy-Acting-Vice-Resident-Engineer, Bought like a bullock, hoof and hide, By the Little Tin Gods on the Mountain Side. ...
Pure element of waters! wheresoe'er Thou dost forsake thy subterranean haunts, Green herbs, bright flowers, and berry-bearing plants, Rise into life and in thy train appear:...
Put nothing in another's way, Who's plodding on through life, But fill each heart with joy each day, With peace instead of strife. So then let not a missent word, Or thought, or act, or deed...
Aw think aw could tell what day it wor th o' aw didn't know if aw could see a lot o' factry fowk gooin to ther wark. Mondy's easy to tell, becoss th' lasses have all clean approns on, an' ther hair hasn't lost its Sundy twists,...
Quaff the glass, the wine is red, And the rose of youth is glowing, While the toils of life are fled And the snows of age are going; Quaff it with a hearty will, Quaff it deep and quaff forever;...
[An edition (250 copies) of "Queen Mab" was printed at London in the summer of 1813 by Shelley himself, whose name, as author and printer, appears on the title-page. Of this edition about seventy copies were privately distribut...
Who built Thebes of the seven gates? In the books you will find the names of kings. Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock? And Babylon, many times demolished Who raised it up so many times? In what houses...
Quick! we have but a second, Fill round the cup, while you may; For Time, the churl, hath beckoned, And we must away, away! Grasp the pleasure that's flying, For oh, not Orpheus' strain...
One lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee, One lesson which in every wind is blown, One lesson of two duties kept at one Though the loud world proclaim their enmity.
I hear the hoofs of horses Galloping over the hill, Galloping on and galloping on, When all the night is shrill With wind and rain that beats the pane, And my soul with awe is still. ...
When on the leaves the rain persists, And every gust brings showers down; When all the woodland smokes with mists, I take the old road out of town Into the hills through which it twists. ...
Even as I see, and share with you in seeing, The altar flame of your love's sacrifice; And even as I bear before the hour the vision, Your little hands in hospital and prison...
Just as the even-bell rang, we set out To wander the fields and the meadows about; And the first thing we mark'd that was lovely to view, Was the sun hung on nothing, just bidding adieu:...