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adieu anon Apollo Arethusa Art thou beauty behold beneath bliss blue bosom bower breast breath bright Carian CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE cheek clouds cool dark dear delight didst dost doth dream earth Endymion eyes faint fair fear feel flowers forest gentle George Keats golden gone green grief hand happy heart heaven immortal John Keats Keats kiss leaves Leigh Hunt light lips Lord Houghton lute lyre melodies mighty morning mortal mossy Naiad never night nought numbers nymphs o'er Peona pinions pleasant pleasure poesy poet rill ring-dove round Scylla seem'd sigh silent silver sing sleep smile soft song sonnet sorrow soul spirit stept strange streams summer sweet swelling tears tell tender thee thine things THOMAS CHATTERTON thou art thou hast thought trees trembling twas vex'd voice Whence whispering wild wind wings wonders young youth
Page 243 - Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's sign-board flew away, Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the story, — Said he saw you in your glory, Underneath a new old-sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Page 76 - My spirit is too weak — Mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steep Of godlike hardship tells me I must die Like a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the cloudy winds to keep Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Page 246 - Ceres' daughter, Ere the God of Torment taught her How to frown and how to chide; With a waist and with a side White as Hebe's, when her zone...
Page xxx - And flowering weeds, and fragrant copses dress The bones of Desolation's nakedness Pass, till the Spirit of the spot shall lead Thy footsteps to a slope of green access Where, like an infant's smile, over the dead, 440 A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread.
Page 248 - Where's the voice, however soft, One would hear so very oft ? At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth Like to bubbles when rain pelteth. Let, then, winged Fancy find Thee a mistress to thy mind : Dulcet-eyed as Ceres...
Page 194 - The earnest trumpet spake, and silver thrills From kissing cymbals made a merry din — 'Twas Bacchus and his kin ! Like to a moving vintage down they came, Crown'd with green leaves, and faces all on flame; All madly dancing through the pleasant valley, To scare thee, Melancholy ! O then, O then, thou wast a simple name!
Page 196 - tis not for me ! Bewitch'd I sure must be, To lose in grieving all my maiden prime. " Come then, Sorrow ! Sweetest Sorrow ! Like an own babe I nurse thee on my breast : I thought to leave thee And deceive thee, But now of all the world I love thee best. " There is not one, No, no, not one But thee to comfort a poor lonely maid ; Thou art her mother, And her brother, Her playmate, and her wooer in the shade.
Page 81 - ON THE SEA It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often 'tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from where it sometime fell, When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.