Whether on Ida’s shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceas’d; Whether in Heav’n ye wander fair,
Awake, awake, my little boy! Thou wast thy mother’s only joy; Why dost thou weep in thy gentle s… Awake! thy father does thee keep. `O, what land is the Land of Drea…
My mother bore me in the southern… And I am black, but O! my soul is… White as an angel is the English… But I am black, as if bereav’d of… My mother taught me underneath a t…
Cruelty has a human heart And jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,
Can I see another’s woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear,
COME, kings, and listen to my so… When Gwin, the son of Nore, Over the nations of the North His cruel sceptre bore; The nobles of the land did feed
The wild winds weep And the night is a—cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps
O HOLY virgin! clad in purest wh… Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and… Awake the dawn that sleeps in heav… Rise from the chambers of the east… The honey’d dew that cometh on wak…
When my mother died I was very yo… And my father sold me while yet my… Could scarcely cry “ ‘weep! ’weep!… So your chimneys I sweep & in soo… There’s little Tom Dacre, who cri…
I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green… And the gates of this Chapel were…
“I have no name: I am but two days old.” What shall I call thee? “I happy am, Joy is my name.”
GOLDEN APOLLO, that thro’ he… Scatter’st the rays of light, and… In lucent words my darkling verses… And wash my earthy mind in thy cle… That wisdom may descend in fairy d…
Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody poor, And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we. And mutual fear brings Peace,
Hear the voice of the Bard! Who Present, Past, and Future, s… Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walk’d among the ancient tree…
My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish’d air, By love are driv’n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: