The fairest day that ever yet has shone, Will be when thou the day within halt see; The fairest rose that ever yet has blown, When thou the flower thou lookest on shalt be. But thou art far away among Time’s toys; Thyself the day thou lookest for in them, Thyself the flower that now […]
I see them crowd on crow they walk the earth Dry, leafless trees no Autumn wind laid bare; And in their nakedness find cause for mirth, And all unclad would winter’s rudeness dare; No sap doth through their clattering branches flow, Whence springing leaves and blossoms bright appear; Their hearts the living God have ceased
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up
Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, 0 Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman’s boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the
A thing of beauty is a joy forever Its loveliness increases, it will never Pass into nothingness; but will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep; and such
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priest like task Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or grazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the
When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain; Before high-piled books, in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripened grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their
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
The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion: Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another’s being mingle—Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven And the waves clasp one
O World! O Life! O Time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more—Oh, never more! Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight: Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar Move my faint heart with
I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert …Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter feeling, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence- stricken multitudes: 0 thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each
The flower that smiles today Tomorrow dies; All that we wish to stay, Tempts and then files. What is this world’s delight? Lightning that mocks the night, Brief even as bright. Virtue, how frail it is! Friendship how rare! Love, how it sells poor bliss For proud despair! But we, though soon they fall, Survive
When did my childhood go? Was it the day I ceased to be eleven. Was it the time I realized that Hell and Heaven, Could not be found in Geography, And therefore could not be, Was that the day! When did my childhood go? Was it the time I realized that adults were not All
Once upon a time, son They used to laugh with their hearts And laugh with their eyes; But now they only laugh with their teeth. While their ice block cold eyes, Search behind my shadow. There was a time indeed They used to shake hands with their hearts; But now they shake hands without hearts