#EnglishWriters
Scene.—Before the Cavern of the… The Enchantress comes forth. Enchantress. He came like a dream in the dawn o… He fled like a shadow before its n…
‘O happy Earth, reality of Heaven… To which those restless souls that… Throng through the human universe,… Thou consummation of all mortal ho… Thou glorious prize of blindly wor…
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
And canst thou mock mine agony, th… In cloudless radiance, Queen of s… Can you, ye flow’rets, spread your… Mid pearly gems of dew that shine… And you wild winds, thus can you s…
ONE word is too often profaned For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdain’d For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is il… Which severs those it should unite… Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night goo…
FIRST SPIRIT O thou, who plum’d with strong des… Wouldst float above the earth, bew… A Shadow tracks thy flight of fir… Night is coming!
Fairest of the Destinies, Disarray thy dazzling eyes: Keener far thy lightnings are Than the winged [bolts] thou beare… And the smile thou wearest
And like a dying lady, lean and pa… Who totters forth, wrapped in a ga… Out of her chamber, led by the ins… And feeble wanderings of her fadin… The moon arose up in the murky eas…
Thy little footsteps on the sands Of a remote and lonely shore; The twinkling of thine infant hand… Where now the worm will feed no mo… Thy mingled look of love and glee
(With what truth may I say— Roma! Roma! Roma! Non e piu come era prima!) My lost William, thou in whom Some bright spirit lived, and did
From the forests and highlands We come, we come; From the river—girt islands, Where loud waves are dumb Listening my sweet pipings.
Wake the serpent not’lest he Should not know the way to go,— Let him crawl which yet lies sleep… Through the deep grass of the mead… Not a bee shall hear him creeping,
Ye hasten to the grave! What seek… Ye restless thoughts and busy purp… Of the idle brain, which the world… O thou quick heart, which pantest… All that pale Expectation feignet…
INFERNO 33, 22-75. Now had the loophole of that dunge… Which bears the name of Famine’s… And where ’tis fit that many anoth… Be doomed to linger in captivity,