#Desire #Love
Mild Splendor of the various-vest… Mother of wildly-working visions!… I watch thy gliding, while with wa… Thy weak eye glimmers through a fl… And when thou lovest thy pale orb…
The shepherds went their hasty way… And found the lowly stable-shed Where the Virgin-Mother lay: And now they checked their eager t… For to the Babe, that at her boso…
Hence that fantastic wantonness of… O Youth to partial Fortune vainly… To plunder’d Want’s half-shelter’… Go, and some hunger-bitten infant… Moan haply in a dying mother’s ear…
Cupid, if storying legends tell ar… Once framed a rich elixer of delig… A chalice o’er love-kindled flames… And in it nectar and ambrosia mixe… With these the magic dews which ev…
The butterfly the ancient Grecian… The soul’s fair emblem, and its on… But of the soul, escaped the slavi… Of mortal life!—For in this earth… Ours is the reptile’s lot, much to…
Nor cold nor stern my soul! Yet I… These scented rooms, where to a ga… Heaves the proud harlot her disten… In intricacies of laborious song. These feel not musics genuine powe…
And in Life’s noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless… The heart’s Self-solace and solil… You mould my Hopes, you fashion m… And to the leading Love-throb in…
Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave? I said, you had no soul, ‘tis true… For what you are, you cannot have: ’Tis I, that have one since I fir… I have heard of reasons manifold
Scene—A spacious drawing-room, wi… Katharine. What are the words? Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improv… to ask of you, Sir ; it is that yo… sweetly.
Friend of the Wise! and Teacher o… Into my heart have I received tha… More than historic, that prophetic… Wherein (high theme by thee first… Of the foundations and the buildin…
A mount, not wearisome and bare an… But a green mountain variously up-… Where o’er the jutting rocks soft… Or colored lichens with slow oozin… Where cypress and the darker yew s…
Where graced with many a classic s… Cam rolls his reverend stream alon… I haste to urge the learned toil That sternly chides my love-lorn s… Ah me! too mindful of the days
It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glitte… Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? The Bridegroom’s doors are opened…
When faint and sad o’er sorrow’s d… Slow journeys onward poor misfortu… When fades each lovely form by fan… And inly pines the self-consuming… (No scourge of scorpions in thy ri…
I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel… Than if ’twere Truth. It has been… Must I die under it? Is no one ne… Will no one hear these stifled gro…