He leaped. With none to hinder, Of Aetna’s fiery scoriae In the next vomit-shower, made he A more peculiar cinder. And this great Doctor, can it be,

When comes the lighted day for men… Life’s meaning, with the work befo… Till this good gift of breath from… Earth will not hear her children’s… Deplore the chieftain fall’n in so…

[Written for the Charing Cross A… Seen, too clear and historic withi… Frown when the Autumn days strike… They of our mortal diseases find n… Errors they of the soul, past the…

He who has looked upon Earth Deeper than flower and fruit, Losing some hue of his mirth, As the tree striking rock at the r… Unto him shall the marvellous tale

Queen Theodolind has built In the earth a furnace-bed: There the Traitor Nail that spilt Blood of the anointed Head, Red of heat, resolves in shame:

Sweet as Eden is the air, And Eden-sweet the ray. No Paradise is lost for them Who foot by branching root and ste… And lightly with the woodland shar…

That march of the funereal Past b… How Glory sat on Bondage for its… How men, like dazzled insects, thr… Still worked their way, and bled t… We know them, as they strove and w…

Whate’er I be, old England is my… So there’s my answer to the judges… I’m nothing of a fox, nor of a lam… I don’t know how to bleat nor how… I’m for the nation!

I must be flattered. The imperiou… Desire speaks out. Lady, I am con… To play with you the game of Sent… And with you enter on paths perilo… But if across your beauty I throw…

Through the water-eye of night, Midway between eve and dawn, See the chase, the rout, the fligh… In deep forest; oread, faun, Goat-foot, antlers laid on neck;

What are we first? First, animals… Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of th… And all that draweth on the tomb f… Into which state comes Love, the…

Their sense is with their senses a… Destroyed by subleties these women… More brain, O Lord, more brain! o… Utterly this fair garden we might… Behold! I looked for peace, and t…

From twig to twig the spider weave… At noon his webbing fine. So near to mute the zephyrs flute That only leaflets dance. The sun draws out of hazel leaves

Not yet had History’s Aetna smoke… And low the Gallic Giantess lay e… While overhead in ordered set and… Her kingly crowns immutably defile… Effulgent on funereal piled

Day of the cloud in fleets! O day Of wedded white and blue, that sai… Immingled, with a footing ray In shadow—sandals down our vale!— And swift to ravish golden meads,