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The Death of Cromwell
A Poem upon the Death of His Late Highness the Lord Protector That Providence which had so long the care Of Cromwell's head, and numbered every hair, Now in itself (the glass where all appears) Had s
An Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought, Through contemplation of those goodly sights, And glorious images in heaven wrought, Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights Do kindle love in
Song of the Open Road.
1 AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good fo
A Pindaric Ode
THE TURN Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, When the prodigious Hannibal did crown His rage with razing your immortal town. Thou looking then about, Ere thou wert hal
The Cloud
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sw
Celestial Love
Higher far, Upward, into the pure realm, Over sun or star, Over the flickering Dæmon film, Thou must mount for love,— Into vision which all form In one only form dissolves; In a region where the wheel
Saint Edmond's Eve
Oh! did you observe the Black Canon pass, And did you observe his frown? He goeth to say the midnight mass, In holy St. Edmond's town. He goeth to sing the burial chaunt, And to lay the wandering spr
Spring.
THE FIRST PASTORAL, OR DAMON. TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBULL. First in these fields I try the sylvan strains, Nor blush to sport on Windsor's blissful plains: Fair Thames, flow gently from thy sacred sprin
75. Halloween
UPON that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans 2 dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the rout is ta’en, Beneath the moon’s pale beams
Orpheus
A: Not far from hence. From yonder pointed hill, Crowned with a ring of oaks, you may behold A dark and barren field, through which there flows, Sluggish and black, a deep but narrow stream, Which the
Tamerlane
Kind solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme-- I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revelled in-- I have no time to dote or dream
To Miss -- -- [Harriet Grove] From Miss -- -- [Elizabeth Shelley]
For your letter, dear -- , accept my best thanks, Rendered long and amusing by virtue of franks, Though concise they would please, yet the longer the better, The more news that's crammed in, more amus
From "January"
Supper removed, the mother sits, And tells her tales by starts and fits. Not willing to lose time or toil, She knits or sews, and talks the while Something, that may be warnings found To the young l
A Hymn In Honour Of Beauty
Ah whither, Love, wilt thou now carry me? What wontless fury dost thou now inspire Into my feeble breast, too full of thee? Whilst seeking to aslake thy raging fire, Thou in me kindlest much more grea
The Canterbury Tales. The Wife of Bath's Tale.
THE PROLOGUE. Experience, though none authority Were in this world, is right enough for me To speak of woe that is in marriage: For, lordings, since I twelve year was of age, (Thanked be God that is
The First Anniversary Of The Government Under O.C.
Like the vain Curlings of the Watry maze, Which in smooth streams a sinking Weight does raise; So Man, declining alwayes, disappears. In the Weak Circles of increasing Years; And his short Tumults of
Prayer of Columbus.
A BATTER’D, wreck’d old man, Thrown on this savage shore, far, far from home, Pent by the sea, and dark rebellious brows, twelve dreary months, Sore, stiff with many toils, sicken’d, and nigh to death
Autumn.
THE THIRD PASTORAL, Or HYLAS AND ÆGON. TO MR WYCHERLEY. Beneath the shade a spreading beech displays, Hylas and Ægon sung their rural lays; This mourn'd a faithless, that an absent love. And Delia's
An Epistle: Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician
Karshish, the picker up of learning's crumbs, The not incurious in God's handiwork (This man's flesh he hath admirably made, Blown like a bubble, kneaded like a paste, To coop up and keep down on eart
Passage to India.
1 SINGING my days, Singing the great achievements of the present, Singing the strong, light works of engineers, Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,) In the Old World, the east, t
Troilus and Criseyde: Book I
The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his aventures fellen Fro wo to wele, and after out of Ioye, My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. Thesi
The Canterbury Tales. The Reeve's Tale.
THE PROLOGUE. WHEN folk had laughed all at this nice case Of Absolon and Hendy Nicholas, Diverse folk diversely they said, But for the more part they laugh'd and play'd; And at this tale I saw no man
The Canterbury Tales. Chaucer's Tale of Sir Thopas.
THE PROLOGUE. WHEN said was this miracle, every man As sober was, that wonder was to see, Till that our Host to japen he began, And then at erst he looked upon me, And saide thus; "What man art thou?
Mont Blanc
LINES WRITTEN IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI. The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark--now glittering--now reflecting gloom-- Now lending splendour, wh