IN vain I see the morning rise, In vain observe the western blaze, Who idly look to other skies, Expecting life by other ways
Amidst such boundless wealth without, I only still am poor within, The birds have sung their summer out, But still m...
We have scarcely time to tell thee Of the strange and gifted Shelley, Kind hearted man, but ill-fated, So youthful drowned and cremated
Like fruit that's large and ripe and mellow, Sweet and luscious is Longfellow, Melodious songs he oft did pour, And high was his Excelsior
He shows us in his psalm of life The folly of our selfish strife; With Hiawatha we bewail His suffering...
Sweet poets of the gentle antique line,
That made the hue of beauty all eterne;
And gave earth's melodies a silver turn,--Where did you steal your art so right divine
--Sweetly ye memoried every golden
I got a death sentence today,
Today? I think it's been here
For a long while.
My shaky hands scribbled
There is May in books forever;
May will part from Spenser never;
May's in Milton,
May's in Prior,
IN noon-tide hours,
O Love, secure and strong,
I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind The world to my desire, and hold the wind A voiceless captive to my conquering song
I need thee not,
I heard the Poor Old Woman say:"At break of day the fowler came,
And took my blackbirds from their
Who loved me well thro' shame and blame No more from lovely
Their songs shall bless me mile by mile,
I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind
Tennyson"What may I do to make you glad,
To make you glad and free,
Goldsmith wrote Deserted Village, Now again reduced to tillage; Once happiest village of the plain, Place now you look for it in vain; There but one man he doth make rich, And hundreds struggle in the ditch; "Ill fare the land to many ills a ...
Look how the lark soars upward and is gone,
Turning a spirit as he nears the sky
His voice is heard, but body there is none To fix the vague excursions of the eye
So, poets' songs are with us, tho' they die Obscured, and hid by deat...
The Poets light but Lamps —
Themselves — go out —
The Wicks they stimulate
If vital Light