FATHER! the little girl we see Is not, I fancy, so like me; You never hold her on your knee. When she came home, the other day, You kiss’d her; but I cannot say
I loved him not; and yet, now he i… I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet,… Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once…
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: Oh! if you felt the pain I feel! But oh, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true;
Tell me not what too well I know About the bard of Sirmio. Yes, in Thalia’s son Such stains there are—as when a G… Sprinkles another’s laughing face
The chrysolites and rubies Bacchu… To crown the feast where swells th… Where maidens blush at what the mi… They who have coveted may covet no… Bring me, in cool alcove, the grap…
Damaetas is a boy as rue As ever broke maid’s solitude. He watcht the little Ida going Where the wood—raspberries were gr… And, under a pretence of fear
Death stands above me, whispering… I know not what into my ear: Of his strange language all I kno… Is, there is not a word of fear.
Twenty years hence my eyes may gro… If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall… Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may h…
IS it not better at an early hour In its calm cell to rest the weary… While birds are singing and while… Than sit the fire out and go starv…
COME, Sleep! but mind ye! if you… The little girl that struck me at… By Jove! I would not give you hal… For all your poppy—heads and all y…
An ancient chestnut’s blossoms thr… Their heavy odour over two: Leucippe, it is said, was one; The other, then, was Alciphron. ‘Come, come! why should we stand b…
Child of a day, thou knowest not The tears that overflow thy urn, The gushing eyes that read thy lot… Nor, if thou knewest, couldst retu… And why the wish! the pure and ble…
PROUD word you never spoke, but… Four not exempt from pride some fu… Resting on one white hand a warm w… Over my open volume you will say, “This man loved me!” then rise and…
Mild is the parting year, and swee… The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its glo…
LO! where the four mimosas blend… In calm repose at last is Landor… For ere he slept he saw them plant… By her his soul had ever held most… And he had liv’d enough when he ha…