There was a naughty boy, A naughty boy was he, He would not stop at home, He could not quiet be He took In his knapsack A book Full of vowels And a shirt...
Full many a dreary hour have I past, My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught...
Fill for me a brimming bowl And in it let me drown my soul: But put therein some drug, designed To Banish Women from my mind: For I want not the stream inspiring That fills the mind with'fond desiring,...
And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up For idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle; A thing of soft misnomers, so divine That silly youth doth think to make itself Divine by loving, nad so goes on...
Mother of Hermes! and still youthful Maia! May I sing to thee As thou wast hymned on the shores of Baiae? Or may I woo thee In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles...
Give me women, wine, and snuff Until I cry out "hold, enough!" You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection; For bless my beard they aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
Chief of organic Numbers! Old Scholar of the Spheres! Thy spirit never slumbers, But rolls about our ears For ever and for ever. O, what a mad endeavour Worketh he...
Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine?...
No, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kist By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; Make not your rosary of yew-berries,...
Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Doubled-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the spheres of sun and moon;...
If by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd, And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet Fetter'd, in spite of pained loveliness; Let us find out, if we must be constrain'd, Sandals more interwoven and complete...
What though, for showing truth to flatter'd state, Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he, In his immortal spirit, been as free As the sky-searching lark, and as elate....
Many the wonders I this day have seen: The sun, when first he kissed away the tears That filled the eyes of Morn; the laurelled peers Who from the feathery gold of evening lean;...
How many bards gild the lapses of time! A few of them have ever been the food Of my delighted fancy, I could brood Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime: And often, when I sit me down to rhyme,...
Time's sea hath been five years at its slow ebb, Long hours have to and fro let creep the sand, Since I was tangled in thy beauty's web, And snared by the ungloving of thine hand....
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom, now from gloominess I mount for ever not an atom less Than the proud laurel shall content my bier. No! by the eternal stars! or why sit here...
Cat! who hast pass'd thy grand climacteric, How many mice and rats hast in thy days Destroy'd? How many tit bits stolen? Gaze With those bright languid segments green, and prick...
Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals, And their faint cracklings o'er our silence creep Like whispers of the household gods that keep A gentle empire o'er fraternal souls....