YES because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a s...

I would in that sweet bosom be (O sweet it is and fair it is!) Where no rude wind might visit me. Because of sad austerities I would in that sweet bosom be.

A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lo… Piercing the west, As thou, fond heart, love’s time,… Rememberest. The clear young eyes’ soft look, t…

He Who Hath Glory Lost He who hath glory lost, nor hath Found any soul to fellow his, Among his foes in scorn and wrath Holding to ancient nobleness,

The Mabbot Street entrance of nighttown, before which stretches an uncobbled tramsiding set with skeleton tracks, red and green will-o’-the-wisps and danger signals. rows of grimy house...

Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty b...

Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison—dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess

O bella bionda, Sei come l’onda! Of cool sweet dew and radiance mil… The moon a web of silence weaves In the still garden where a child

Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain —— Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there