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I.The rose that drinks the fountain dewIn the pleasant air of noon,Grows pale and blue with altered hue—In the gaze of the nightly moon;For the planet of frost, so cold and brightMakes it wan with her borrowed light. II.Such is…
Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze,And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair As star-beams among twilight trees:Such lovely ministers to meetOft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.With mountain winds, and babbling…
Sweet star, which gleaming o’er the darksome sceneThrough fleecy clouds of silvery radiance fliest,Spanglet of light on evening’s shadowy veil,Which shrouds the day-beam from the waveless lake,Lighting the hour of sacred love; more sweetThan the expiring morn-star’s paly fires:—Sweet star!…
Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze,And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair As star-beams among twilight trees:Such lovely ministers to meetOft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.With mountain winds, and babbling…
I.Summer was dead and Autumn was expiring,And infant Winter laughed upon the landAll cloudlessly and cold;—when I, desiringMore in this world than any understand,Wept o’er the beauty, which, like sea retiring,Had left the earth bare as the wave-worn sandOf my…
I.Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of lightSpeed thee in thy fiery flight,In what cavern of the nightWill thy pinions close now? II.Tell me, Moon, thou pale and grayPilgrim of Heaven’s homeless way,In what depth of night or daySeekest thou…
A woodman whose rough heart was out of tune(I think such hearts yet never came to good)Hated to hear, under the stars or moon, One nightingale in an interfluous woodSatiate the hungry dark with melody;—And as a vale is watered…
TO MARY(ON HER OBJECTING TO THE FOLLOWING POEM, UPON THE SCORE OF ITS CONTAINING NO HUMAN INTEREST)I.How, my dear Mary,—are you critic-bitten (For vipers kill, though dead) by some review,That you condemn these verses I have written, Because they tell…
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it HeWho dares arrest the wheels of destinyAnd plunge me in the lowest Hell of Hells?Will not the lightning’s blast destroy my frame?Will not steel drink the blood-life where it swells?No—let me hie where…
The viewless and invisible ConsequenceWatches thy goings-out, and comings-in,And . . . hovers o’er thy guilty sleep,Unveiling every new-born deed, and thoughtsMore ghastly than those deeds—