Lady unknown! a pilgrim from the shrine Of Poesy's fair temple, brings a wreath Which fame and gratitude alike entwine, Around a name that charms the monster Death,...
Here is one leaf reserved for me, From all thy sweet memorials free; And here my simple song might tell The feelings thou must guess so well. But could I thus, within thy mind,...
See you, beneath yon cloud so dark, Fast gliding along a gloomy bark? Her sails are full,--though the wind is still, And there blows not a breath her sails to fill! ...
Once fondly lov'd and still remember'd dear; Sweet early object of my youthful vows! Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere, Friendship! 'tis all cold duty now allows. ...
While flowing rivers yield a blameless sport, Shall live the name of Walton: Sage benign! Whose pen, the mysteries of the rod and line Unfolding, did not fruitlessly exhort...
Among the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, Where, thro' a shapeless breach, his stream resounds,...
I dreamed and did not seek: to-day I seek Who can no longer dream; But now am all behindhand, waxen weak, And dazed amid so many things that gleam Yet are not what they seem. ...
Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him, Yet at the last, ere a sword-thrust could save, Yet at the last, with his masters around him, He spoke of the Faith as a master to slave....
"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?" "I'm going to join the Colours, Dad; They're looking for men, they say." "But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad;...
The spring is coming by a many signs; The trays are up, the hedges broken down, That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines Like some old antique fragment weathered brown....
But, Song, arise thee on a greater wing, Nor twitter robin-like of love, nor sing A pretty dalliance with grief - but try Some metre like a sky, Wherein to set Stars that may linger yet...
I make this rhyme of my lady and me To give me ease of my misery, Of my lady and me I make this rhyme For lovers in the after-time. And I weave its warp from day to day In a golden loom deep hid away...
Once we met, and then there came Like a Pentecostal flame, A word; And I said not, Only thought, She heard! All I never say but sing, Worshipping; Wrapt in the hidden tongue...