Not in thy body is thy life at all But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…

ROSE—SHEATHED beside the ros… Lurks the young adder’s tooth; Milk—mild from new—born hemlock—bl… The earliest drops are wrung: And sweet the flower of his first…

Sometimes she is a child within mi… Cowering beneath dark wings that l… With still tears showering and ave… Inexplicably filled with faint ala… And oft from mine own spirit’s hur…

Even as a child, of sorrow that we… The dead, but little in his heart… Since without need of thought to h… Their turn it is to die and his to… Even so the winged New Love smile…

Mother, is this the darkness of th… The Shadow of Death? and is that… Infinite imminent Eternity? And does the death—pang by man’s s… In Time’s each instant cause thy…

Think thou and act; to—morrow thou… Outstretch’d in the sun’s warmth u… Thou say’st: ‘Man’s measured path… Up all his years, steeply, with st… Man clomb until he touch’d the tru…

To—day Death seems to me an infan… Which her worn mother Life upon m… Has set to grow my friend and play… If haply so my heart might be begu… To find no terrors in a face so mi…

Consider the sea’s listless chime: Time’s self it is, made audible,— The murmur of the earth’s own shel… Secret continuance sublime Is the sea’s end: our sight may pa…

CON manto d’oro, collana, ed anel… Le piace aver con quelli Non altro che una rosa ai suoi cap… WITH golden mantle, rings, and n… It likes her best to wear

IN her deep bosom the pride settl… That pride which is a brackish thi… And the life in her pulses seemed… About her temples for an iron crow… She set stern patience. She did n…

This is her picture as she was: It seems a thing to wonder on, As though mine image in the glass Should tarry when myself am gone. I gaze until she seems to stir,—

Not that the earth is changing, O… Nor that the seasons totter in the… Not that the virulent ill of act a… Seethes ever as a winepress ever t… Not therefore are we certain that…

The lilies stand before her like a… Through which, upon this warm and… God surely hears. For there she k… Who wafts our prayers to God—Mary… She was Faith’s Present, parting…

Afar away the light that brings co… Unto this wall, —one instant and n… Admitted at my distant palace—door… Afar the flowers of Enna from thi… Dire fruit, which, tasted once, mu…

Dear friend, if there be any bond Which friendship wins not much bey… So old and fond, since thought beg… It may be that whose subtle span Binds Shakespear to an English ma…