Phraortes! where art thou? The flames were panting after us,… Before the Gods, who heard nor pr… Temples had sunk to earth, and oth… O’er riven altars broke

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,

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…

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.

Stand close around, ye Stygian se… With Dirce in one boat conveyed! Or Charon, seeing, may forget That he is old and she a shade.

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…

Zoe: Changed? very true, O Thero… Theron: It would at least have be… To hold a moment back from me the… You let recoil thus sharply or my… Not long ago, not very long, you o…

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…

Father: What brought thee back, l… Son: Father! the same feet As took me brought me back, I war… Father: Couldst thou not find the… Son: The deuce himself

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,

Past ruined Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades. Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse… Immortal youth to mortal maids. Soon shall oblivion’s deepening ve…

Lately our poets loiter’d in green… Content to catch the ballads of th… I fancied I had strength enough t… A loftier station at no distant ti… And might securely from intrusion…

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…

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…

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…