I shall tread, another year, Ways I walked with Grief, Past the dry, ungarnered ear And the brittle leaf. I shall stand, a year apart,

If wild my breast and sore my prid… I bask in dreams of suicide; If cool my heart and high my head, I think, ‘How lucky are the dead!…

My land is bare of chattering folk… The clouds are low along the ridge… And sweet’s the air with curly smo… From all my burning bridges.

Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed– I think they would be better dead.

It costs me never a stab nor squir… To tread by chance upon a worm. “Aha, my little dear,” I say, “Your clan will pay me back one da…

For this my mother wrapped me warm… And called me home against the sto… And coaxed my infant nights to qui… And gave me roughage in my diet, And tucked me in my bed at eight,

The bird that feeds from off my pa… Is sleek, affectionate, and calm, But double, to me, is worth the th… A-flickering in the elder-bush.

You know the bloom, unearthly whit… That none has seen by morning ligh… The tender moon, alone, may bare Its beauty to the secret air. Who’d venture past its dark retrea…

Should Heaven send me any son, I hope he’s not like Tennyson. I’d rather have him play a fiddle Than rise and bow and speak an idy…

Unseemly are the open eyes That watch the midnight sheep, That look upon the secret skies Nor close, abashed, in sleep; That see the dawn drag in, unbidde…

What time the gifted lady took Away from paper, pen, and book, She spent in amorous dalliance (They do those things so well in…

They laid their hands upon my head… They stroked my cheek and brow; And time could heal a hurt, they s… And time could dim a vow. And they were pitiful and mild

When I am old, and comforted, And done with this desire, With Memory to share my bed And Peace to share my fire, I’ll comb my hair in scalloped ban…

He’d have given me rolling lands, Houses of marble, and billowing fa… Pearls, to trickle between my hand… Smoldering rubies, to circle my ar… You– you’d only a lilting song,

The Lives and Times of John Keat… Percy Bysshe Shelley, and George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron Byron and Shelley and Keats Were a trio of Lyrical treats.