#AmericanWriters
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…
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…
Hope it was that tutored me, And Love that taught me more; And now I learn at Sorrow’s knee The self-same lore.
“Then we will have tonight!” we sa… “Tomorrow– may we not be dead?” The morrow touched our eyes, and f… Us walking firm above the ground, Our pulses quick, our blood alight…
If I don’t drive around the park, I’m pretty sure to make my mark. If I’m in bed each night by ten, I may get back my looks again, If I abstain from fun and such,
Too long and quickly have I lived… The woe that stretches me shall ne… Too often seen the end of endless… To swear that peace no more shall… I know, I know– again the shrivel…
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.
Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look,
Sleep, pretty lady, the night is e… Drift, and so lightly, on crystall… Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkn… Starlight bespangles the way of yo… Chorus the nightingales, wistfully…
“It’s queer,” she said; “I see th… As plain as I beheld it then, All silver—like and calm and brigh… We’ve not had stars like that agai… ”And she was such a gentle thing
Whose love is given over-well Shall look on Helen’s face in hel… Whilst those whose love is thin an… May view John Knox in Paradise.
Here in my heart I am Helen; I’m Aspasia and Hero, at least. I’m Judith, and Jael, and Madame… I’m Salome, moon of the East. Here in my soul I am Sappho;
Such glorious faith as fills your… Dear little friend of mine, I nev… All-innocent are you, and yet all-… (For Heaven’s sake, stop worrying… You look about, and all you see is…
So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear young… They’ll all be here by noon today. And I shall wear the blue, I thin…
If I had a shiny gun, I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brain… Of the folk who give me pains; Or had I some poison gas,