THE SEA! the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free… Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth’s wide region… It plays with the clouds; it mocks…

TELL me, what is a poet’€™s thou… Is it on the sudden born? Is it from the starlight caught? Is it by the tempest taught, Or by whispering morn?

King Death was a rare old fellow! He sate where no sun could shine; And he lifted his hand so yellow, And poured out his coal-black wine… Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!

WE are born; we laugh; we weep; We love; we droop; we die! Ah! wherefore do we laugh or weep? Why do we live, or die? Who knows that secret deep?

TOUCH us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream Gently,'€”as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream. Humble voyagers are We,

I wakened on my hot, hard bed; Upon the pillow lay my head; Beneath the pillow I could hear My little watch was ticking clear. I thought the throbbing of it went

The poplars in the fields of Fran… Are golden ladies come to dance; But yet to see them there is none But I and the September sun. The girl who in their shadow sits

GAMARRA is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble bree… Full of fire, and full of bone, With all his line of fathers known… Fine his nose, his nostrils thin,

SING, I pray, a little song, Mother dear! Neither sad nor very long: It is for a little maid, Golden-tressed Adelaide!

Here’s a health to thee, Mary, Here’s a health to thee; The drinkers are gone, And I am alone, To think of home and thee, Mary.

I am a Witch, and a kind old Witc… There’s many a one knows that— Alone I live in my little dark ho… With Pillycock, my cat. A girl came running through the ni…

HOW many summers, love, Have I been thine? How many days, thou dove, Hast thou been mine? Time, like the winged wind

A THOUSAND miles from land are… Tossing about on the roaring sea; From billow to bounding billow cas… Like fleecy snow on the stormy bla… The sails are scatter’d abroad, li…

The brand is on thy brow, A dark and guilty spot; ’Tis ne’er to be erased! ’Tis ne’er to be forgot! The brand is on thy brow!

Inesilla! I am here Thy own cavalier Is now beneath thy lattice playing… Why art thou delaying? He hath riden many a mile