Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures pro
Of golden sands, and crystal brook
With silken lines, and silver hook
There will the river whispering ru

The tremulously mirrored clouds li
Enchanted towers bosomed in the st
And blossomed coronals of white-th
Within the water where the willows
Still-imaged willow-leaves whose s

Much have I travell’d in the real
And many goodly states and kingdom
Round many western islands have I
Which bards in fealty to Apollo h
Oft of one wide expanse had I bee

That was I, you heard last night,
When there rose no moon at all,
Nor, to pierce the strained and ti
Tent of heaven, a planet small:
Life was dead and so was light.

Would that the structure brave, th
Bidding my organ obey, calling its
Claiming each slave of the sound,
Armies of angels that soar, legion

['Will sprawl, now that the heat o
Flat on his belly in the pit’s muc
With elbows wide, fists clenched t
And, while he kicks both feet in t
And feels about his spine small ef

What is he buzzing in my ears?
“Now that I come to die,
Do I view the world as a vale of
Ah, reverend sir, not I!
What I viewed there once, what I

Round the cape of a sudden came th
And the sun looked over the mounta
And straight was a path of gold fo
And the need of a world of men for

The grey sea and the long black la
And the yellow half—moon large and
And the startled little waves that
In fiery ringlets from their sleep
As I gain the cove with pushing p

The Assyrian came down like the w
And his cohorts were gleaming in p
And the sheen of their spears was
When the blue wave rolls nightly o
Like the leaves of the forest when

Bright star, would I were stedfas
Not in lone splendour hung aloft t
And watching, with eternal lids ap
Like nature’s patient, sleepless
The moving waters at their priestl

A thing of beauty is a joy for eve
Its loveliness increases; it will
Pass into nothingness; but still w
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health,

Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
Then let winged Fancy wander

Thou still unravish’d bride of qui
Thou foster-child of silence and s
Sylvan historian, who canst thus e
A flowery tale more sweetly than o
What leaf-fring’d legend haunts ab

No, no! go not to Lethe, neither
Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be
By nightshade, ruby grape of Pros
Make not your rosary of yew-berrie

O Goddess! hear these tuneless nu
By sweet enforcement and remembran
And pardon that thy secrets should
Even into thine own soft-conched e
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I

No! those days are gone away
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Of the leaves of many years: