So saying, light-foot Iris pass'd away. Then rose Achilles dear to Zeus; and round The warrior's puissant shoulders Pallas flung Her fringed 'gis, and around his head...
Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease...
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,...
Our enemies have fall'n, have fall'n: the seed, The little seed they laugh'd at in the dark, Has risen and cleft the soil, and grown a bulk Of spanless girth, that lays on every side...
A voice spake out of the skies To a just man and a wise' 'The world and all within it Will only last a minute!' And a beggar began to cry 'Food, food or I die'! Is it worth his while to eat,...
The son of him with whom we strove for power' Whose will is lord thro' all his world-domain' Who made the serf a man, and burst his chain' Has given our prince his own imperial Flower, Alexandrovna....
Athelstan King, Lord among Earls, Bracelet-bestower and Baron of Barons, He with his brother, Edmund Atheling, Gaining a lifelong Glory in battle, Slew with the sword-edge...
Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang), In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease...
Dear is the memory of our wedded lives, And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears; but all hath suffer'd change; For surely now our household hearths are cold,...
Thy prayer was 'Light-more Light-while Time shall last!' Thou rawest a glory growing on the night, But not the shadows which that light would cast, Till shadows vanish in the Light of Light.
Warrior of God, man's friend, and tyrant's foe, Now somewhere dead far in the waste Soudan, Thou livest in all hearts, for all men know This earth has never borne a nobler man.
Thou third great Canning, stand among our best And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased, Here silent in our Minster of the West Who wert the voice of England in the East.
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods, Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall....
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, First made and latest left of all the knights, Told, when the man was no more than a voice In the white winter of his age, to those...
All along the valley, stream that flashest white, Deepening thy voice with the deepening of the night, All along the valley, where thy waters flow, I walk'd with one I loved two and thirty years ago....
The foes of the east have come down on our shore, And the state and the strength of Peru are no more: Oh! curs'd, doubly curs'd, was that desolate hour, When they spread o'er our land in the pride of their power!...