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,
Why is, and whence, the Po in fla… In consternation do its borderers… Imploring hands to mortal men arou… And Gods above? Are Gods implaca… Or men bereft of sight at such a b…
“Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and lookt into my eye… “A yes, a yes, to both: for Memor… Where you but once have been must…
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…
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
Smiles soon abate; the boisterous… Of anger long burst forth; Inconstantly the south—wind blows, But steadily the north. Thy star, O Venus! often changes
The leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture… So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird
ALAS, how soon the hours are ove… Counted us out to play the lover! And how much narrower is the stage Allotted us to play the sage! But when we play the fool, how wid…
Catch her and hold her if you can— See, she defies you with her fan, Shuts, opens, and then holds it sp… In threatening guise over your hea… Ah! why did you not start before
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…
Thou hast not rais’d, Ianthe, suc… In any breast as thou hast rais’d… No wandering meteor now, no marshy… Leads on my steps, but lofty, but… And, if thou chillest me, as chill…
Against the groaning mast I stand… The Atlantic surges swell, To bear me from my native land And Zoë's wild farewell. From billow upon billow hurl’d
Rejoice, ye nations! one is dead By whom ten thousand hearts have b… Widows and orphans, raise your voi… One voice, ye prostrate peoples, r… To God; to God alone be praise!
When the buds began to burst, Long ago, with Rose the First I was walking; joyous then Far above all other men, Till before us up there stood
With much ado you fail to tell The requisites for writing well; But, what bad writing is, you quit… Have proved by every line you writ…