‘I play for Seasons; not Eterniti… Says Nature, laughing on her way.… All those whose stake is nothing m… And lo, she wins, and of her harmo… She is full sure! Upon her dying…

Joy is fleet, Sorrow slow. Love, so sweet, Sorrow will sow. Love, that has flown

Should thy love die; O bury it not under ice-blue eyes! And lips that deny, With a scornful surprise, The life it once lived in thy brea…

Thy greatest knew thee, Mother Ea… He knew thy sons. He probed from… Of human passions, but of love def… His wisdom was not, for he knew th… Thence came the honeyed corner at…

What soul would bargain for a cure… Contempt the nobler agony to kill? Rather let me bear on the bitter i… And strike this rusty bosom with n… It seems there is another veering…

What may the woman labour to confe… There is about her mouth a nervous… ’Tis something to be told, or hidd… I get a glimpse of hell in this mi… She has desires of touch, as if to…

Unhappy poets of a sunken prime! You to reviewers are as ball to ba… They shadow you with Homer, knock… With Shakespeare: bludgeons brain… On you the excommunicates of Rhym…

Am I failing? For no longer can… A glory round about this head of g… Glory she wears, but springing fro… Not like the consecration of the… Is my soul beggared? Something mo…

Fire in her ashes Ireland feels And in her veins a glow of heat. To her the lost old time, appeals For resurrection, good to greet: Not as a shape with spectral eyes,

Madam would speak with me. So, no… The Deluge or else Fire! She’s w… My husbandship. Our chain on sile… Time leers between, above his twid… Am I quite well? Most excellent i…

When April with her wild blue eye Comes dancing over the grass, And all the crimson buds so shy Peep out to see her pass; As lightly she loosens her showery…

Carols nature, counsel men. Different notes as rook from wren Hear we when our steps begin, And the choice is cast within, Where a robber raven’s tale

No, no, the falling blossom is no… Of loveliness destroy’d and sorrow… The blossom sheds its loveliness d… Its mission is to prophecy the fru… Nor is the day of love for ever de…

I stood at the gate of the cot Where my darling, with side-glance… Would spy, on her trim garden-plot… The busy wild things chase and lur… For these with their ways were her…

But where began the change; and wh… The wretch condemned, who has not… Chafes at his sentence. Shall I,… Drag on Love’s nerveless body thr… I must have slept, since now I wa…