First, ere I slake my hunger, let… The giver of the feast. For feast… Though of ethereal, translunary fa… His story who pre-eminently of men Seemed nourished upon starbeams an…

Who draws to-day the unrighteous s… Behold him stand, the Man Forswor… The warrior of the faithless word, The pledge disowned, the covenant… Who prates of honour, truth, and t…

Eldest born of powers divine! Bless’d Hygeia! be it mine To enjoy what thou canst give, And henceforth with thee to live: For in power if pleasure be

To the eye and the ear of the Dre… This Dream out of darkness flew, Through the horn or the ivory port… But he wist not which of the two. It was the Human Spirit,

I Love cometh and love goeth, And he is wise who knoweth Whither and whence love flies: But wise and yet more wise Are they that heed not whence he f…

NO courtier this, and naught to c… Fawned not on thrones, hymned not… Yet, in one strain, that few remem… He had the password of King Obero… And seeing a London seamstress’s…

Go, Verse, nor let the grass of t… Beneath thy feet iambic. Southwar… O’er Thamesis his stream, nor hal… Thou reach the summit of a suburb… To lettered fame not unfamiliar: t…

Inhospitably hast thou entertained… O Poet, us the bidden to thy boar… Whom in mid-feast, and while our t… Are one laudation of the festal ch… Thou from thy table dost dismiss,…

Last night the seawind was to me A metaphor of liberty, And every wave along the beach A starlit music seemed to be. To-day the seawind is to me

Had I the fabled herb That brought to life the dead, Whom would I dare disturb In his eternal bed? Great Grenville would I wake,

O Master, if immortals suffer aug… Of sadness like to ours, and in li… And with like overflow of darkened… Disburden them, I know not; but m… What time to day mine ear the utte…

A fearful and a lovely thing is S… And mighty store of secrets hath i… And those there were of old who we… What meant his fearfulness and lov… And all his many shapes of life an…

Scentless flow’rs I bring thee-ye… In thy bosom be they set; In thy bosom each one grows Fragrant beyond any rose. Sweet enough were she who could,

Betwixt the Foe and France was sh… France the immortal, France the f… The Foe, like one vast living sea… Drew nigh. He dreamed that none his tide woul…

Not here, O teeming City, was it… Thy lover, thy most faithful, shou… But where the multitudinous life-t… Whose ocean-murmur was to him more… Than melody of birds at morn, or b…