Some the stern Fates will never lend,
And all refuse to stay.
I see the rainbow in the sky,
The dew upon the grass,
I see them, and I ask not why
They glimmer or they pass.
With folded arms I linger not
To call them back; ’twere vain;
In this, or in some other spot,
I know they’ll shine again.
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Yes, in this chancel once we sat alone,
Freshness like Morning’s dwelt upon thy cheek,While here and there above the level pews,Above the housings of the village dames,The musky fan its groves and zephyrs waved.I know not why (since we had each our bookAnd lookt upon it stedfastly) first oneOutran the learned labourer from the desk,Then tript the other and limpt far behind,And…
Child of a day, thou knowest not
The gushing eyes that read thy lot,Nor, if thou knewest, couldst return!And why the wish! the pure and blestWatch like thy mother o’er thy sleep.O peaceful night! O envied rest!Thou wilt not ever see her weep.
BLYTHE bell, that calls to bridal halls,
The very shower that feeds the flowerWeeps also its decay.
Death stands above me, whispering low
Of his strange language all I knowIs, there is not a word of fear.
Rejoice, ye nations! one is dead
Widows and orphans, raise your voice . .One voice, ye prostrate peoples, raiseTo God; to God alone be praise!All dwellers upon earth, rejoice:The imprisond soul, the tortured limb,Are now at last set free by Him.Each king their fellow king suppliedWith thongs to scourge ye: but your wrongsReacht highest heaven; Angelic tonguesShouted when Earth’s Flagellant died.The…
Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream;
Beneath some cool syringa’s scented shadeOr wavy willow, by the running stream,Brimful of Moral, where the Dragon FlyWanders as careless and content as I.Thanks for this fancy, insect king,Of purple crest and filmy wing,Who with indifference givest upThe water-lily’s golden cup,To come again and overlookWhat I am writing in my book.Believe me, most who read…
Some the stern Fates will never lend,
And all refuse to stay.
I see the rainbow in the sky,
The dew upon the grass;
I see them, and I ask not why
They glimmer or they pass.
With folded arms I linger not
To call them back; ’twere vain:
In this, or in some other spot,
I know they’ll shine again.
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THE TONGUE of England, that which myriads
Hereafter, but two mighty men stand forthAbove the flight of ages, two alone;One crying out,All nations spoke through me.The other:True; and through this trumpet burst God’s word; the fall of Angels, and the doomFirst of immortal, then of mortal, Man.Glory! be glory! not to me, to God.
HOW many verses have I thrown
Peculiar word, the wanted most,Was irrecoverably lost!
When the buds began to burst,
I was walking; joyous thenFar above all other men,Till before us up there stoodBritonferry’s oaken wood,Whispering, ‘Happy as thou art,Happiness and thou must part.’Many summers have gone bySince a Second Rose and I(Rose from the same stem) have toldThis and other tales of old.She upon her wedding dayCarried home my tenderest lay:From her lap I…
THE MOTHER of the Muses, we are taught,
And shake my shoulder, urging me to singAbout the summer days, my loves of old.Alas! alas! is all I can reply.Memory has left with me that name alone,Harmonious name, which other bards may sing,But her bright image in my darkest hourComes back, in vain comes back, call’d or uncall’d.Forgotten are the names of visitorsReady to…
BORGIA, thou once wert almost too august
All that remains of thee these plaits unfold,Calm hair meandering in pellucid gold.
Struggling, and faint, and fainter didst thou wane,
Came forth to help thee, with half-open eyes,And trembled every one with still surprise,That the black Spectre should have dared assailTheir beauteous queen and seize her sacred veil.