Upon a time, before the faery broo… Drove Nymph and Satyr from the pr… Before King Oberon’s bright diade… Sceptre, and mantle, clasp’d with… Frighted away the Dryads and the…
Love in a hut, with water and a cr… Is—Love, forgive us!—cinders, ash… Love in a palace is perhaps at las… More grievous torment than a hermi… That is a doubtful tale from faery…
FAIR ISABEL, poor simple Isab… Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love’s… They could not in the self-same ma… Without some stir of heart, some m… They could not sit at meals but fe…
ST. AGNES’ EVE—Ah, bitter chi… The owl, for all his feathers, was… The hare limp’d trembling through… And silent was the flock in woolly… Numb were the Beadsman’s fingers,…
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbn… My sense, as though of hemlock I… Or emptied some dull opiate to the… One minute past, and Lethe-wards… ’Tis not through envy of thy happy…
Thou still unravish’d bride of qui… Thou foster-child of silence and s… Sylvan historian, who canst thus e… A flowery tale more sweetly than o… What leaf-fring’d legend haunts ab…
O Goddess! hear these tuneless nu… By sweet enforcement and remembran… And pardon that thy secrets should… Even into thine own soft-conched e… Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I…
Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth… Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let winged Fancy wander
Bards of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Doubled-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune
Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine
No! those days are gone away And their hours are old and gray, And their minutes buried all Under the down-trodden pall Of the leaves of many years:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfu… Close bosom-friend of the maturing… Conspiring with him how to load an… With fruit the vines that round th… To bend with apples the moss’d cot…
No, no! go not to Lethe, neither… Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its… Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be… By nightshade, ruby grape of Pros… Make not your rosary of yew-berrie…
