#EnglishWriters
Wake the serpent not’lest he Should not know the way to go,— Let him crawl which yet lies sleep… Through the deep grass of the mead… Not a bee shall hear him creeping,
Swift as a spirit hastening to his… Of glory & of good, the Sun spran… Rejoicing in his splendour, & the… Of darkness fell from the awakened… The smokeless altars of the mounta…
A golden-winged Angel stood Before the Eternal Judgement-seat… His looks were wild, and Devils’… Stained his dainty hands and feet. The Father and the Son
So now my summer-task is ended, M… And I return to thee, mine own he… As to his Queen some victor Knigh… Earning bright spoils for her ench… Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame…
The fitful alternations of the rai… When the chill wind, languid as wi… Of its own heavy moisture, here an… Drives through the gray and beamle…
The death knell is ringing The raven is singing The earth worm is creeping The mourners are weeping Ding dong, bell—
Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on t… Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a differ… And ever changing, like a joyless…
From the Greek. Eagle! why soarest thou above that… To what sublime and star-ypaven ho… Floatest thou?— I am the image of swift Plato’s s…
From The Italian Of Dante Ye who intelligent the Third Heav… Hear the discourse which is within… Which cannot be declared, it seems… The Heaven whose course follows y…
Away! the moor is dark beneath the… Rapid clouds have drank the last p… Away! the gathering winds will cal… And profoundest midnight shroud th… Pause not! The time is past! Ever…
Melodious Arethusa, o’er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of… Who denies verse to Gallus? So, w… Glidest beneath the green and purp… Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou f…
Tell me, thou Star, whose wings o… Speed thee in thy fiery flight, In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now? II.
Before those cruel twins whom at o… Incestuous Change bore to her fat… Error and Truth, had hunted from… All those bright natures which ado… And left us nothing to believe in,…
I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I di… To think that a most unambitious s… Like thou, shouldst dance and reve… Of Liberty. Thou mightst have bui… Where it had stood even now: thou…
Honey from silkworms who can gathe… Or silk from the yellow bee? The grass may grow in winter weath… As soon as hate in me. II.
