Far above the hollow Tempest, and its moan, Singeth bright Apollo In his golden zone,— Cloud doth never shade him,

An Allegory There’s a murmur in the air, And noise in every street— The murmur of many tongues, The noise of numerous feet—

What is a mine—a treasury—a dower— A magic talisman of mighty power? A poet’s wide possession of the ea… He has the enjoyment of a flower’s… Before its budding—ere the first r…

I gaze upon a city,— A city new and strange,— Down many a watery vista My fancy takes a range; From side to side I saunter,

‘On the east coast, towards Tunis, the Moors still preserve the key of their ancestors’ houses in Spain; to which country they still express the hopes of one day returning and again pla...

My heart is sick with longing, tho… On hope; Time goes with such a he… That neither brings nor takes from… As if he slept—forgetting his old… For, as in sunshine only we can re…

Most delicate Ariel! submissive t… Won by the mind’s high magic to it… Invisible embassy, or secret guest… Weighing the light air on a lighte… Whether into the midnight moon, to…

Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy… And play to me so cheerily; For grief is dark, and care is sha… And life wears on so wearily. Oh! take thy harp!

Alas! That breathing Vanity shoul… Where Pride is buried,—like its v… Uprisen from the naked bones below… In novel flesh, clad in the silent… Of gaudy silk that flutters to and…

“Who hath not felt that breath in… A perfume and freshness strange an… A warmth in the light, and a bliss… When young hearts yearn together? All sweets below, and all sunny ab…

A WANDERER, Wilson, from my n… Remote, O Rae, from godliness and… Where rolls between us the eternal… Besides some furlongs of a foreign… Beyond the broadest Scotch of Lon…

‘O breathe not his name!’ —Moore. Thou Great Unknown! I do not mean Eternity, nor Death… That vast incog!

Giver of glowing light! Though but a god of other days, The kings and sages Of wiser ages Still live and gladden in thy geni…

A little fairy comes at night, Her eyes are blue, her hair is bro… with silver spots upon her wings, And from the moon she flutters dow… She has a little silver wand,

Farewell, Life! My senses swim, And the world is growing dim; Thronging shadows cloud the light, Like the advent of the night,— Colder, colder, colder still,