Earth rais’d up her head From the darkness dread and drear. Her light fled, Stony dread! And her locks cover’d with grey de…
O THOU who passest thro’ our val… Thy strength, curb thy fierce stee… That flames from their large nostr… Oft pitched’st here thy golden ten… Beneath our oaks hast slept, while…
The wild winds weep And the night is a—cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps
Cruelty has a human heart And jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,
O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed
When my mother died I was very yo… And my father sold me while yet my… Could scarcely cry “ ‘weep! ’weep!… So your chimneys I sweep & in soo… There’s little Tom Dacre, who cri…
Little Mary Bell had a Fairy in… Long John Brown had the Devil in… Long John Brown lov’d little Mar… And the Fairy drew the Devil into… Her Fairy skipp’d out and her Fai…
PHOEBE drest like beauty’s quee… Jellicoe in faint pea-green, Sitting all beneath a grot, Where the little lambkins trot. Maidens dancing, loves a-sporting,
q| I will sing you a song of Los,… He sung it to four harps, at the t… In heart-formèd Africa. Urizen faded! Ariston shudder’d! And thus the Song began:—
[PLATE 3] The Guardian Prince of Albion bu… Sullen fires across the Atlantic… Piercing the souls of warlike men,… Washington, Franklin, Paine & Wa…
I travell’d thro’ a land of men, A land of men and women too; And heard and saw such dreadful th… As cold earth—wanderers never knew… For there the Babe is born in joy
THE BELL struck one, and shook… The graves give up their dead: fai… Walk’d by the castle gate, and loo… A hollow groan ran thro’ the drear… She shriek’d aloud, and sunk upon…
Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight,
I wonder whether the girls are mad… And I wonder whether they mean to… And I wonder if William Bond wil… For assuredly he is very ill. He went to church in a May mornin…
Sweet dreams, form a shade O’er my lovely infant’s head! Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy, silent, moony beams! Sweet Sleep, with soft down