Lo, here among the rest you sleep, As though no difference were ‘Twixt them and you, more wide, mo… Than such as fondness loves to kee… Round each lone sepulchre.

Here’s to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it,

Here, where the vine and fig bask… And the hot lizard lies along the… Blinded I shrink where cypress sh… And gaze upon the far-off mountain… Then down the dusty track Lorenzo…

Dead! Is she dead? And all that light extinguished! Mend your words, Those gropings of the blind along… Where all the Heavens are shining…

The lights of Mesolongi gleam Before me, now the day is gone; And vague as leaf on drifting stre… My keel glides on. No mellow moon, no stars arise;

‘The smiling slopes with olive gro… Now darkly green, now, as the bree… Spectral and white, as though the… With elfin branches laced with gos… And then so faint, the eye could s…

Exile or Caesar? Death hath solve… And made thee certain of thy chang… And thou no more hast wearily to w… Straining to catch the people’s ta… That from unrestful rest would dra…

When for one brief dark hour Rome… Felt the sharp shock of Cannae’s… Forum, and field, and Senate-Hous… With cries of nor misgiving nor la… Only of men contending now who sho…

Give me October’s meditative haze… Its gossamer mornings, dewy-wimple… Dewy and fragrant, fragrant and se… The long slow sound of farmward-we… When homely Love sups quiet ‘mid…

Fixed is my Faith, the lingering… That still we move through Libert… The Human Tragedy. When God out of chaos primeval di… And moved on the face of the water…

Let the weary world go round! What care I? Life’s a surfeiting of sound: I would die. It would be so sweet to lie

In the streets of Constance was h… ‘Masters! bring the arch-heretic o… The stake had been planted, the fa… And the tongues of the torches fli… ‘Huss to the flames!’ they fiercel…

When for a buonamano Cometh, at break of day, Knock at the terzo piano, A little voice answers, Chi è? ‘I, the facchino, awaiting

Should fickle hands in far-off day… No longer stroke thy hair, And lips that once were proud to p… Forget to call thee fair, Sigh but my name, and though I be

By the fates that have fastened ou… By the distance that holds us apar… By our passion, its sweetness, its… By the longing and ache of the hea… By our meeting, our parting, our p…