Let me, calm face, remain For ever in these sweet sequestere… Remote from pain, Where leafy laurustinus overlooks The blue abounding main.

Think you that I will drain the d… I who have quaffed the sweetness o… Now by the steadfast burning stars… Better to faint of thirst than thu… What! shall we twain who saw love’…

Good-bye, old year, good-bye! Gentle you were to many as to me, And so we, meditating, sigh, Since what hath been will be, That you must die.

HE. Halt here awhile. That mossy-cush… Is for your queenliness a natural… As I am fitly couched on this low… Here at your feet.

Good-night! Now dwindle wan and l… The embers of the afterglow, And slowly over leaf and lawn Is twilight’s dewy curtain drawn. The slouching vixen leaves her lai…

Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred Where Thames, once silver, now ru… Whose journeys daily ebb and flow ‘Twixt Tyburn and the bells of Bo… You late in learnëd prose have tol…

Men deemed thee fallen, did they?… Coiled into self to foil a Vandal… Not wholly shorn of strength, but… Weaned from thy fame by a too happ… Scanning the ridges of thy teeming…

Latest, earliest of the year, Primroses that still were here, Snugly nestling round the boles Of the cut-down chestnut poles, When December’s tottering tread

All hail to the Czar! By the frin… That thunders, untamed, around Al… See multitudes throng, dense as se… Is betwixt the deaf rocks and the… And across the ridged waters stand…

Church-doors should still stand op… Open to all who come for praise or… Laden with gift of love or load of… Nimbused with gold, or flecked wit… Mother, or snow-white bride, or pa…

‘In the depth of Night, on the he… Would you know where I rest or ro… In vain will you search, for I no… And the Universe is my home. ’When you think to descry on the c…

Not in the mist of legendary ages, Which in sad moments men call long… And people with bards, heroes, sai… And virtues vanished, since we do… But here to-day wherein we all gro…

So you think he is defeated, O ye… And that Victory is meted in your… O ye fools! though justice tarry,… Right, howe’er it may miscarry, er… And you think a wounded hero may h…

She trembles when I touch The tips of scarce-grown fingers, Yet seems to think it overmuch If for a moment lingers Grasp that I hardly meant for suc…

Yes, nightingale and cuckoo! it wa… That you should come together; for… Are emblems of the rapture and the… That in the April of our life com… Until we know not which is the mor…