Endymion: Book III (John Keats Poem)
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
O thou, the wonder of all days! O paragon, and pearl of praise! O Virgin-martyr, ever blest Above the rest ...
BE those few hours, which I have yet to spend, Blest with the meditation of my end; Though they be ...
WEAVE the warp, and weave the woof, The winding-sheet of Edward's race. Give ample room, and verge enough The characters ...
Strange that the city thoroughfare, Noisy and bustling all the day, Should with the night renounce its care, And lend ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
How many paltry, foolish, painted things, That now is coaches trouble every street, Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings, ...
How many paltry foolish painted things, That now in coaches trouble every street, Shall be forgotten, whom no poet sings, ...
1 On Linden, when the sun was low, 2 All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 3 And dark as winter ...
THERE are some powerful odours that can pass Out of the stoppard flagon; even glass To them is porous. Oft ...
FIRST when Maggie was my care, Heav'n, I thought, was in her air, Now we're married-speir nae mair, But whistle ...
THE LOVELY lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For, e'en to morn she cries, alas! And ...
The lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, "Alas!" And ...
Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear, Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose ...
(In memoriam C. T. W. Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire July 7, 1896) ...
Here, down between the dusty trees, At this lank edge of haggard wood, Women with labour-loosened knees, With gaunt backs ...
Over the radiant ridges borne out on the offshore wind, I have sailed as a butterfly sails whose priming wings ...
Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread; For Love is dead-- All love is dead, infected With plague ...
I took a contract to bury the body of blasphemous Bill MacKie, Whenever, wherever or whatsoever the manner of death ...
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich ...
The man who cloaked his bitterness within This winding-sheet of puns and pleasantries, God never gave to look with common ...
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