I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers I heard a thousand blended notes I knew a soft-eyed lady, from a noble foreign land I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter I say to thee, do thou repeat I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he I think of thee, my sister I wandered lonely as a cloud I watched a rose-bud very long I would build a cloudy house If aught of oaten-stop and pastoral song If by your art, my dearest father, you have. If it were done. when 'tis done, then 'twere well Into the Silent Land! Is this a dagger which I see before me? It fortifies my soul to know It is a beauteous evening, calm and free It is a place where poets crowned It is not growing like a tree It is the Christmas time. It is the spot I came to seek It's hame, and it's hame, It was many and many a year ago It was when from Spain across the main Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier King of kings and Lord of lords! Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom. Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is Man is permitted much to scan, and learn Meary Ann wer alwone, wi' her beäby in eärms Mountain gorses, ever golden Much have I travelled in the realms of gold My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night Night in her dark array 53 Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are Now it belongs not to my care. Now, most noble Brutus. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile O blithe new-comer! I have heard O grave and good Paulina O lovers' eyes are sharp to see 282 147 305 167 143 126 O where have ye been, Lord Randal, my son? O'er wayward childhood wouldst thou hold firm rule Of all the thoughts of God that are Of comfort no man speak IIO Oh many are the beauteous isles Oh, pleasant eventide ! Oh righteous doom, that they who make. Oh, to be in England. 214 416 148 290 Queen and huntress, chaste and fair Rich and royal Italy Ring out wild bells to the wild sky Sabrina fair, listen where thou art sitting. She walks in beauty, like the night 174 She was a phantom of delight. Sleep breathes at last from out thee So on he fares, and to the border comes So the foemen have fired the gate, men of mine Southward with fleet of ice. Speak the speech, I pray you . Stern daughter of the Voice of God! Stop, Mortal! here thy brother lies. Stranger! if e'er thy ardent step hath traced Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright Sweet echo, sweetest nymph! that liv'st unseen 143 392 Tell me not in mournful numbers That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold The butter an' the cheese weel stowit they be The hills all glowed with a festive light The infant lies in blessed ease. The king is come; deal mildly with his youth The king was on his throne The loppéd tree in time may grow again The murmur of the mourning ghost The night is come, but not too soon The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year The sun rises bright in France The world is too much with us; late and soon 57 241 162 There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin There was a sound of revelry by night There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream These are thy glorious works, Parent of good These beauteous forms Thy thrice noble cousin, Harry Bolingbroke 'Tis the midnight hour-the beauteous sea To do what service am I sent for hither? . To heroism and holiness . To horse, to horse, Sir Nicholas ! the clarion's note is high 65 158 187 135 338 384 23 112 380 137 6 219 131 239 Upon the hills the wind is sharp and cold Violet! sweet violet ! . We have two nights watched with you 221 122 369 418 355 44 147 319 188 |