I could believe that I am here al… And all the world my dream; The passion of the scene is all my… And things that seem but seem. Perchance an exhalation of my sorr…

I would I had been born in nature… When man was in the world a wide-e… And clouds of sorrow crossed his s… To scatter dewdrops on the buds of… Then could he work and love and fi…

O world, thou choosest not the bet… It is not wisdom to be only wise, And on the inward vision close the… But it is wisdom to believe the he… Columbus found a world, and had no…

Out of the dust the queen of roses… The brackish depths of the blown w… Blossoms of foam; the common mist… Weave Vesper’s holy, pity-laden w… So from sad, mortal, and unhallowe…

A perfect love is nourished by des… I am thy pupil in the school of pa… Mine eyes will not reproach thee f… But thank thy rich disdain for bei… Aye! the proud sorrow, the eternal…

There may be chaos still around th… This little world that in my think… For mine own bosom is the paradise Where all my life’s fair visions a… Within my nature’s shell I slumbe…

What chilly cloister or what latti… Cast painted light upon this caref… What thought compulsive held the p… Till sound of matin bell or evenin… Did visions of the Heavenly Lover…

But is this love, that in my hollo… Gnaws like a silent poison, till… Is this the vision that the haggar… Fed with his vigils, till he found… Is this the hope that piloted thy…

I sought on earth a garden of deli… Or island altar to the Sea and Ai… Where gentle music were accounted… And reason, veiled, performed the… My sad youth worshipped at the pit…

Let not thy bosom, to my foes alli… Insult my sorrow with this coat of… When for thy strong defence, if lo… Thou hast the world, thy virtue, a… But if thine own dear eyes I see…

Thou hast no name, or, if a name t… To none it meaneth what it means t… Thy form, the loveliness the world… Makes not the glory that to me tho… Nor thine unuttered thoughts, thou…

If, when the story of my love is o… This book should live and lover’s… Fair charactered, for bluest eye t… And richly bound, for whitest hand… O limn me then this lovely head in…

Among the myriad voices of the Sp… What were the voice of my supreme… What were my cry amid the vernal c… Or my complaint before the gods th… O too late love, O flight on woun…

We were together, and I longed to… How drop by silent drop my bosom b… I took some verses full of you, an… Waiting for God to work some mira… They told how love had plunged in…