Follow to the deep wood's weeds, Follow to the wild-briar dingle, Where we seek to intermingle, And the violet tells her tale To the odour-scented gale, For they two have enough to do...
Great Spirit whom the sea of boundless thought Nurtures within its unimagined caves, In which thou sittest sole, as in my mind, Giving a voice to its mysterious waves -
Is it that in some brighter sphere We part from friends we meet with here? Or do we see the Future pass Over the Present's dusky glass? Or what is that that makes us seem...
I stood upon a heaven-cleaving turret Which overlooked a wide Metropolis - And in the temple of my heart my Spirit Lay prostrate, and with parted lips did kiss The dust of Desolations [altar] hearth -...
There is a warm and gentle atmosphere About the form of one we love, and thus As in a tender mist our spirits are Wrapped in the ... of that which is to us The health of life's own life -
I dreamed that Milton's spirit rose, and took From life's green tree his Uranian lute; And from his touch sweet thunder flowed, and shook All human things built in contempt of man, -...
A shovel of his ashes took From the hearth's obscurest nook, Muttering mysteries as she went. Helen and Henry knew that Granny Was as much afraid of Ghosts as any, And so they followed hard -...
If gibbets, axes, confiscations, chains, And racks of subtle torture, if the pains Of shame, of fiery Hell's tempestuous wave, Seen through the caverns of the shadowy grave,...
Where man's profane and tainting hand Nature's primaeval loveliness has marred, And some few souls of the high bliss debarred Which else obey her powerful command; ...mountain piles...
Ever as now with Love and Virtue's glow May thy unwithering soul not cease to burn, Still may thine heart with those pure thoughts o'erflow Which force from mine such quick and warm return.
A golden-winged Angel stood Before the Eternal Judgement-seat: His looks were wild, and Devils' blood Stained his dainty hands and feet. The Father and the Son Knew that strife was now begun....
1. Those whom nor power, nor lying faith, nor toil, Nor custom, queen of many slaves, makes blind, Have ever grieved that man should be the spoil Of his own weakness, and with earnest mind...
Such hope, as is the sick despair of good, Such fear, as is the certainty of ill, Such doubt, as is pale Expectation's food Turned while she tastes to poison, when the will Is powerless, and the spirit...
Is not to-day enough? Why do I peer Into the darkness of the day to come? Is not to-morrow even as yesterday? And will the day that follows change thy doom? Few flowers grow upon thy wintry way;...
Faint with love, the Lady of the South Lay in the paradise of Lebanon Under a heaven of cedar boughs: the drouth Of love was on her lips; the light was gone Out of her eyes -