Endymion: Book IV (John Keats Poem)
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be ...
Give me, O indulgent Fate! Give me yet before I die A sweet, but absolute retreat, 'Mongst paths so lost ...
Daphne's Answer to Sylvia, declaring she should esteem all as Enemies, who should talk to her of LOVE. THEN, to ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
Dim, as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers, Is reason to the soul; and ...
This is a day of happiness, sweet peace, And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd In full assembly fair, once more ...
ALONG the banks where Babel's current flows Our captive bands in deep despondence stray'd, While Zion's fall in sad remembrance ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, unbroke by rules of art, He pours the wild effusions of the heart; And if inspir'd 'tis ...
HEALTH to the Maxwell's veteran Chief! Health, aye unsour'd by care or grief: Inspir'd, I turn'd Fate's sibyl leaf, This ...
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, ...
THROUGH and through th' inspir'd leaves, Ye maggots, make your windings; But O respect his lordship's taste, And spare his ...
LATE crippl'd of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the ...
If it is true, what the Prophets write, That the heathen gods are all stocks and stones, Shall we, for ...
WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE, In curling waves the rapid waters shine; Where tow'ring cliffs in awful ...
THOU art no more my bosom's FRIEND; Here must the sweet delusion end, That charm'd my senses many a year, ...
ENLIGHTEN'D Patron of the sacred Lyre? Whose ever-varying, ever-witching song Revibrates on the heart With magic thrilling touch, Till ev'ry ...
SWEET CHILD OF REASON! maid serene; With folded arms, and pensive mien, Who wand'ring near yon thorny wild, So oft, ...
In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in ...
To the Lord Fairfax. See how the arched Earth does here Rise in a perfect Hemisphere! The stiffest Compass could ...
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