#AmericanWriters
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.
She that begs a little boon (Heel and toe! Heel and toe!) Little gets– and nothing, soon. (No, no, no! No, no, no!) She that calls for costly things
You are brief and frail and blue– Little sisters, I am, too. You are Heaven’s masterpieces– Little loves, the likeness ceases.
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,
Authors and actors and artists and… Never know nothing, and never know… Sculptors and singers and those of… Tell their affairs from Seattle t… Playwrights and poets and such hor…
Joy stayed with me a night— Young and free and fair— And in the morning light He left me there. Then Sorrow came to stay,
New love, new love, where are you… All along a narrow way that marks… How are you to slake me, and how a… With bitter yellow berries, and a… New love, new love, shall I be fo…
I think that I shall never know Why I am thus, and I am so. Around me, other girls inspire In men the rush and roar of fire, The sweet transparency of glass,
No more my little song comes back; And now of nights I lay My head on down, to watch the blac… And wait the unfailing gray. Oh, sad are winter nights, and slo…
My own dear love, he is strong and… And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of… And his eyes are lit with laughter… He is jubilant as a flag unfurled—
There’s little to have but the thi… There’s little to bear but the thi… There’s nothing to carry and naugh… And glory to Heaven, I paid the s… There’s little to do but I did be…
[and scarcely worth the trouble, a… The same to me are somber days and… Though Joyous dawns the rosy morn… Because my dearest love is gone aw… Within my heart is melancholy nigh…
Go I must along my ways Though my heart be ragged, Dripping bitter through the days, Festering, and jagged. Smile I must at every twinge,
Carlyle combined the lit’ry life With throwing teacups at his wife, Remarking, rather testily, “Oh, stop your dodging, Mrs. C.!”
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.