Lear
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind— For pity, my own tears have made me blind That I might never see my children's frown;
And, may be, madness, like a friend, has thrown A folded fill...
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind— For pity, my own tears have made me blind That I might never see my children's frown;
And, may be, madness, like a friend, has thrown A folded fill...
No popular respect will I omit To do thee honor on this happy day,
When every loyal lover tasks his wit His simple truth in studious rhymes to pay,
And to his mistress dear his hopes convey
Rather thou knowest I would still outrun A...
Young Ben he was a nice young man, A carpenter by trade; And he fell in love with Sally Brown, That was a lady's maid
But as they fetch'd a walk one day, They met a press-gang crew; And Sally she did faint away, Whilst Ben he was brought to
I saw pale Dian, sitting by the brink Of silver falls, the overflow of fountains From cloudy steeps; and I grew sad to think Endymion's foot was silent on those mountains
And he but a hush'd name, that Silence keeps In dear remembrance,—lonel...
Unfathomable Night
how dost thou sweep Over the flooded earth, and darkly hide The mighty city under thy full tide;
Making a silent palace for old Sleep,
Like his own temple under the hush'd deep,
The curse of Adam, the old curse of all,
Though I inherit in this feverish life Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife,
And fruitless thought, in Care's eternal thrall,
Yet more sweet honey than of bitter gall I taste, throug...
O saw ye not fair Ines
She’s gone into the West,
To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest:
She took our daylight with her, The smiles that we love best,
No sun--no moon
No morn--no noon
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--No sky--no earthly view--No distance looking blue--No road--no street--no "t'other side this way"--No end to any Row--No indications where the Crescents ...
It is not death, that sometime in a sigh This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight;
That sometime these bright stars, that now reply In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night; That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms
I remember,
I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn;
She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp’d by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won