Endymion: Book I (John Keats Poem)
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
SHE behind yon mountain lives, Who my love's sweet guerdon gives. Tell me, mount, how this can be! Very glass ...
Trust the word of scripture the hope for this people the savior of the world will return in victory The ...
Why I thought the painters pants perfect for the picking the worn knees showing my cold skin below reaching down ...
When He comes again, it will be with the fanfare, the trumpets, the fury, the wonder that the people expected ...
Harkenings of memories and moments to come. Summer leads to fall Fog over the fields and marshes, the wet places, ...
I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco-leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth-poles to the Line, All between that ...
All human things are subject to decay, And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey: This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, ...
THINK not, 'cause men flattering say You're fresh as April, sweet as May, Bright as is the morning star, That ...
Can we not force from widow'd poetry, Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy To crown thy hearse? Why ...
Man Naturally loves delay, And to procrastinate; Business put off from day to day Is always done to late. Let ...
Come queen of months in company Wi all thy merry minstrelsy The restless cuckoo absent long And twittering swallows chimney ...
HOW cold is that bosom which folly once fired, How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten'd; How ...
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think That thou wast in the world a year ago, What time I sat alone ...
Ah! happy he, upon whose birth each god Looks down in love, whose earliest sleep the bright Idalia cradles, whose ...
(Time, Morning. Scene, the Shore.) Once more to daily toil--once more to wear The weeds of infamy--from every joy The ...
Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane, For whom no Shepherd sighs in vain; Never did Covent Garden boast So bright a batter'd, ...
Where antique woods o'er-hang the mountains's crest, And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour; Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow'r, ...
When daylight was yet sleeping under the pillow, And stars in the heavens still lingering shone, Young Kitty, all blushing, ...
With Apologies to Mr. Swinburne. For repose I have sighed and have struggled ; have sigh'd and have struggled in ...
In Clementina's artless mien Lucilla asks me what I see, And are the roses of sixteen Enough for me? Lucilla ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories