Thou fair-haired angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!...
To my friend Butts I write My first vision of light, On the yellow sands sitting. The sun was emitting His glorious beams From Heaven's high streams. Over sea, over land, My eyes did expand...
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.' ...
Why should I care for the men of thames Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams Or shrink at the little blasts of fear That the hireling blows into my ear
You don't believe -- I won't attempt to make ye: You are asleep -- I won't attempt to wake ye. Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams Of Reason you may drink of Life's clear streams....