#EnglishWriters
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.
The spider spreads her webs, wheth… In poet’s tower, cellar, or barn,… The silk-worm in the dark green mu… His winding sheet and cradle ever… So I, a thing whom moralists call…
The flower that smiles to—day To—morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
And earnest to explore within—arou… The divine wood, whose thick green… Tempered the young day to the sigh… Up the green slope, beneath the fo… With slow, soft steps leaving the…
FIRST SPIRIT O thou, who plum’d with strong des… Wouldst float above the earth, bew… A Shadow tracks thy flight of fir… Night is coming!
The death-bell beats!— The mountain repeats The echoing sound of the knell; And the dark Monk now Wraps the cowl round his brow,
Best and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorro… Comes to bid a sweet good—morrow To the rough Year just awake
Such hope, as is the sick despair… Such fear, as is the certainty of… Such doubt, as is pale Expectatio… Turned while she tastes to poison,… Is powerless, and the spirit...
The world is now our dwelling-plac… Where’er the earth one fading trac… Of what was great and free does ke… That is our home!... Mild thoughts of man’s ungentle ra…
Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twin… Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed… With mighty Saturn’s Heaven-obscu… On Taygetus, that lofty mountain… Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux…
Our boat is asleep on Serchio’s s… Its sails are folded like thoughts… The helm sways idly, hither and th… Dominic, the boatman, has brought… And the oars, and the sails; but ’…
Oh! what is the gain of restless c… And what is ambitious treasure? And what are the joys that the mod… In their sickly haunts of pleasure… My husband’s repast with delight…
I weep for Adonais—he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our… Thaw not the frost which binds so… And thou, sad Hour, selected from… To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscu…
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
Bright ball of flame that through… Silently takest thine aethereal wa… And with surpassing glory dimm’st… Twinkling amid the dark blue depth… Unlike the fire thou bearest, soon…
