#EnglishWriters
O Wild West Wind, thou breath of… Thou, from whose unseen presence t… Are driven, like ghosts from an en… Yellow, and black, and pale, and h… Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O…
SWIFTLY walk o’er the western w… Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave,— Where, all the long and lone dayli… Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Ap… Who wakens with her smile the lull… Of sweet desire, taming the eterna… Of Heaven, and men, and all the l… That fleet along the air, or whom…
Stern, stern is the voice of fate’… When accents of horror it breathes… Or compels us for aye bid adieu to… Where exists that loved friend to… 'Tis sterner than death o’er the s…
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
From the Greek. A man who was about to hang himsel… Finding a purse, then threw away h… The owner, coming to reclaim his p… The halter found; and used it. So…
Best and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorro… Comes to bid a sweet good—morrow To the rough Year just awake
My thoughts arise and fade in soli… The verse that would invest them m… Like moonlight in the heaven of sp… How beautiful they were, how firm… Flecking the starry sky like woven…
The babe is at peace within the wo… The corpse is at rest within the t… We begin in what we end.
See yon opening flower Spreads its fragrance to the blast… It fades within an hour, Its decay is pale—is fast. Paler is yon maiden;
Where art thou, beloved To-morrow… When young and old, and strong and… Rich and poor, through joy and sor… Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,— In thy place—ah! well-a-day!
The flower that smiles to—day To—morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
I met a traveller from an antique… Who said—“Two vast and trunkless… Stand in the desert... Near them,… Half sunk a shattered visage lies,… And wrinkled lip, and sneer of col…
She left me at the silent time When the moon had ceas’d to climb The azure path of Heaven’s steep, And like an albatross asleep, Balanc’d on her wings of light,
Hopes, that swell in youthful brea… Live not through the waste of time… Love’s rose a host of thorns inves… Cold, ungenial is the clime, Where its honours blow.