Gold and iron are good To buy iron and gold; All earth’s fleece and food For their like are sold. Hinted Merlin wise,

Though loth to grieve The evil time’s sole patriot, I cannot leave My buried thought For the priest’s cant,

Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy… With sudden passion languishing, Maketh all things softly smile, Painteth pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup with cowslip—wreaths,

Set not thy foot on graves; Hear what wine and roses say; The mountain chase, the summer wav… The crowded town, thy feet may wel… Set not thy foot on graves;

THOSE who are esteemed umpires of taste, are often persons who have acquired some knowledge of admired pictures or sculptures, and have an inclination for whatever is elegant; but if yo...

The invitation to address you this day, with which you have honored me, was so welcome, that I made haste to obey it. A summons to celebrate with scholars a literary festival, is so all...

Once I wished I might rehearse Freedom’s paean in my verse, That the slave who caught the stra… Should throb until he snapped his… But the Spirit said, 'Not so;

Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space… The sportive sun, the gibbous moon… The innumerable days. I hid in the solar glory,

Already blushes in thy cheek The bosom—thought which thou must… The bird, how far it haply roam By cloud or isle, is flying home; The maiden fears, and fearing runs

We are met to exchange congratulations on the anniversary of an event singular in the history of civilization; a day of reason; of the clear light; of that which makes us better than a ...

I love thy music, mellow bell, I love thine iron chime, To life or death, to heaven or hel… Which calls the sons of Time. Thy voice upon the deep

I am the Muse who sung alway By Jove, at dawn of the first day… Star—crowned, sole—sitting, long… To fire the stagnant earth with th… On spawning slime my song prevails…

Low and mournful be the strain, Haughty thought be far from me; Tones of penitence and pain, Moanings of the tropic sea; Low and tender in the cell

Who knows this or that? Hark in the wall to the rat: Since the world was, he has gnawed… Of his wisdom, of his fraud What dost thou know?