Round thy steep castle walls, Who seeks thy love must ride, Who from their dizzy summit falls, Must death abide. O Lady proud and fair,

Blaspheme not thou thy sacred life… O’er joys that God hath for a sea… Perchance to try thy spirit, and i… Effeminate soul and base! weakly t… There lies no desert in the land o…

Say thou not sadly, ‘never,’ and ‘… But from thy lips banish those fal… While life remains that which was… Again may be thine; in Time’s sto… Days, hours, and moments, that hav…

ON GIVING A FRIEND A CRO… We should each other’s crosses hel… Yet I, dear friend, lay this upon… Would Heaven, indulgent, hear my… No heavier one should ever on it r…

I know a maiden with a laughing fa… And springing feet like wings;—the… Forth from the radiant dancing of… Is full of mischievous and mirthfu… I know a maiden you might scarce t…

Cover me with your everlasting arm… Ye guardian giants of this solitud… From the ill-sight of men, and fro… Tumultuous din of yon wild world’s… Oh, knit your mighty limbs around,…

Oh, serious eyes! how is it that t… The burning rays, that mine pour i… Still find ye cold, and dead, and… Oh, lifeless eyes! can ye not answ… Oh, lips! whereon mine own so ofte…

They who go down to the relentless… After long horrible death of cold… Ere the last spark of flickering l… Give to the bitter waves that o’er… The secret of their agony to keep;

Come fill the can again, boys, One parting glass, one parting gla… Ere we shall meet again, boys, Long years may pass, long years ma… We’ll drink the gallant bark, boys…

At morn—a mountain ne’er to be cli… A horn of plenty, lengthening ever… At noon—the countless hour-sands p… Waves that we scarce can see as th… At night—a pageant over ere begun,

The end is come: in thunder and wi… Autumn has stormed the golden hous… She going—lingers yet—sweet glance… Of kind farewell upon the land she… And leaves. No more the sunny lan…

And I Am reading, too, my book of memory… With eyelids closed, over the cres… And the blue, marbled sea, I seek… All present things forgotten, on t…

Silence instead of thy sweet song,… Which through the darkness of my w… Warbling of summer sunshine still… Mute is thy song, and vacant is th… The spring comes back again, the f…

Why art thou weeping Over the happy, happy dead, Who are gone away, From this life of clay, From this fount of tears,

In sleepless nights my sad forgott… Breathes with low strains of broke… Under my touch long, long had it b… But now it sings of its own fantas… Thou hadst a spirit then that was…