#EnglishWriters
PEOPLE of England, ye who toil… Who reap the harvests which are no… Who weave the clothes which your o… And for your own take the inclemen… Who build warm houses . . .
Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twin… Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed… With mighty Saturn’s Heaven-obs… On Taygetus, that lofty mountain… Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux…
I am as a spirit who has dwelt Within his heart of hearts, and I… His feelings, and have thought his… The inmost converse of his soul, t… Unheard but in the silence of his…
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Ap… Who wakens with her smile the lull… Of sweet desire, taming the eterna… Of Heaven, and men, and all the l… That fleet along the air, or whom…
My head is heavy, my limbs are wea… And it is not life that makes me m…
Death! where is thy victory? To triumph whilst I die, To triumph whilst thine ebon wing Enfolds my shuddering soul? O Death! where is thy sting?
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets’ food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they,
Yes! all is past—swift time has fl… Yet its swell pauses on my sickeni… How long will horror nerve this fr… I’m dead, and lingers yet my soul… Oh! powerful Fate, revoke thy dea…
The waters are flashing, The white hail is dashing, The lightnings are glancing, The hoar-spray is dancing— Away!
Why is it said thou canst not live In a youthful breast and fair, Since thou eternal life canst give… Canst bloom for ever there? Since withering pain no power poss…
PART 1. A Sensitive Plant in a garden gre… And the young winds fed it with si… And it opened its fan-like leaves… And closed them beneath the kisses…
Thy country’s curse is on thee, da… Of that foul, knotted, many-headed… Which rends our Mother’s bosom—Pr… Masked Resurrection of a buried F… II.
I rode one evening with Count Mad… Upon the bank of land which breaks… Of Adria towards Venice: a bare s… Of hillocks, heap’d from ever-shif… Matted with thistles and amphibiou…
‘O happy Earth, reality of Heaven… To which those restless souls that… Throng through the human universe,… Thou consummation of all mortal ho… Thou glorious prize of blindly wor…
Swifter far than summer’s flight— Swifter far than youth’s delight— Swifter far than happy night, Art thou come and gone— As the earth when leaves are dead,