I wander o’er the sandy heath Where the white rush waves high, Where adders close before me wreat… And tawny kites sail screaming by. Alone I wander; I alone
Speak not too ill of me, Athenian… Nor ye, Athenian sages, speak too… From others of all tribes am I se… I leave your confines: none whom y… Finding me hungry and athirst, sha…
Soon, O Ianthe! life is o’er, And sooner beauty’s heavenly smile… Grant only (and I ask no more), Let love remain that little while.
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone! —Tho’ youth, where you are, long w… But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste away. ‘Can I be always by your side?’
George the First was always recko… Vile, but viler George the Second… And what mortal ever heard Any good of George the Third? When from earth the Fourth descen…
Why, why repine, my pensive friend… At pleasures slipp’d away? Some the stern Fates will never l… And all refuse to stay. I see the rainbow in the sky,
Nor empty are the honours that we… To the departed; our own hearts ar… Brimfull with grateful reminiscenc… Compassion is excited; the most st… Relent; and better even the best r…
WHO will away to Athens with me?… Loves choral songs and maidens cro… Unenvious? mount the pinnace; hois… I promise ye, as many as are here, Ye shall not, while ye tarry with…
I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, Come and share my haunch of veniso… I have too a bin of claret, Good, but better when you share it… Tho’ 'tis only a small bin,
Friends, whom she lookt at blandly… And her white wrist above it, gem—… Were arguing with Pentheusa: she… Report of Creon’s death, whom yea… She listened to, well—pleas’d; and…
TO write as your sweet mother doe… Is all you wish to do. Play, sing, and smile for others,… Let others write for you. Or mount again your Dartmoor grey…
God scatters beauty as he scatters… O’er the wide earth, and tells us… A hundred lights in every temple b… And at each shrine I bend my knee…
Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath a cool syringa’s scented s… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of moral, where the dragon…
I sing the fates of Gebir. He had… Among those mountain—caverns which… His labours yet, vast halls and fl… Nor have forgotten their old maste… Though severed from his people her…
I LEAVE thee, beauteous Italy!… From the high terraces, at even—ti… To look supine into thy depths of… Thy golden moon between the cliff… Or thy dark spires of fretted cypr…
