Sophocles: Thou goest then, and l… Aeschylos: Nay, say not so. Whose is the hand that now is pres… A hand I may not ever press again… What glorious forms hath it brough…

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.

MILD is the parting year, and sw… 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…

WE are what suns and winds and wa… The mountains are our sponsors, an… Fashion and win their nursling wit… But where the land is dim from tyr… There tiny pleasures occupy the pl…

Very true, the linnets sing Sweetest in the leaves of spring: You have found in all these leaves That which changes and deceives, And, to pine by sun or star,

‘Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and look’d into my ey… ‘A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must…

FRIENDS, whom she look’d at bla… And her white wrist above it, gem—… Were arguing with Pentheusa: she… Report of Creon’s death, whom yea… She listen’d to, well—pleas’d; and…

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…

Proud word you never spoke, but yo… 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…

THERE falls with every wedding c… A feather from the wing of Time. You pick it up, and say “How fair To look upon its colors are!” Another drops day after day

To my ninth decade I have tottere… And no soft arm bends now my steps… She, who once led me where she wou… So when he calls me, Death shall…

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,

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…

Memory! thou hidest from me far, Hidest behind some twinkling star Which peers o’er Pindus, or whose… Crosses that broad and rapid strea… Where Zeus in wily whiteness shon…