#Imagery #Pastoral
O! I do love thee, meek Simplicit… For of thy lays the lulling simple… Goes to my heart, and soothes each… Distress tho’ small, yet haply gre… 'Tis true, on Lady Fortune’s gent…
Though friendships differ endless… The sorts, methinks, may be reduc… Ac quaintance many, and Con quai… But for In quaintance I know onl… The friend I’ve mourned with, and…
Sweet Mercy! how my very heart ha… To see thee, poor old man! and thy… Hoar with the snowy blast; while n… To clothe thy shrivelled limbs and… My Father! throw away this tatter…
God be with thee, gladsome Ocean! How gladly greet I thee once more… Ships and waves, and ceaseless mot… And men rejoicing on thy shore. Dissuading spake the mild physicia…
The stream with languid murmur cre… In Lumin’s flowery vale: Beneath the dew the Lily weeps Slow-waving to the gale. ‘Cease, restless gale! ’it seems t…
As some vast Tropic tree, itself… That crests its Head with clouds,… Feeds its deep roots, and with the… Of its wide base controls the fron… (By the slant current’s pressure s…
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and b… As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye…
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philom… How many Bards in city garret pen… While at their window they with do… Mark the faint lamp-beam on the ke… And listen to the drowsy cry of W…
What if you slept And what if In your sleep You dreamed And what if
How warm this woodland wild Reces… Love surely hath been breathing he… And this sweet bed of heath, my de… Swells up, then sinks with faint c… As if to have you yet more near.
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…
William, my teacher, my friend! de… Smooth out the folds of my letter,… Place it on table or desk ; and yo… Gently sustain them in air, and ex… Rest it a moment on each of the fo…
To the River Otter Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet… How many various-fated years have… What happy and what mournful hours… I skimm’d the smooth thin stone al…
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798 No cloud, no relique of the sunken… Distinguishes the West, no long t… Of sullen light, no obscure trembl… Come, we will rest on this old mos…
'And hail the chapel! hail the pla… Where Tell directed the avenging… With well-strung arm, that first p… Then aimed the arrow at the tyrant… Splendor’s fondly fostered child!
