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I wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; everything else tastes like chaff in my mouth. - Letters (no. XXXVII) [Love] You have ravished me away by a Power I cannot resist; and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I endeavored often "to reason against the reasons of my Love." - Letters to Fanny Braune (VIII) [Reason] Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? - Mermaid Tavern [Inns] Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone. - Ode on a Grecian Urn [Music] Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time. - Ode on a Grecian Urn [Silence] Thou still unravished bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time. - Ode on a Grecian Urn [Books (First Lines)] Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. - Ode on a Grecian Urn (st. 5) [Beauty : Truth] And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eyes. - Ode to a Nightingale [Musk Roses] Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth! On for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene! With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth. - Ode to a Nightingale [Wine and Spirits] My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense. - Ode to a Nightingale [Books (First Lines)] Underneath large blue-bells tented Where the daisies are rose-scented, And the rose herself has got Perfume which on earth is not. - Ode--Bards of Passion and of Mirth [Flowers] Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth. - Ode--Bards of Passion and of Mirth [Nightingales] But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed. - On Fame [Roses] Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer rules as his demesne, Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold; Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific,--and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise,-- Silent, upon a peak in Darien. - On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer, (Cortez confused with Balboa) [Books (First Lines) : Poets] Silent, upon a peak in Darien. - On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer [Books (Last Lines)] On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence. - On the Grasshopper and Cricket [Winter] The poetry of earth is never dead; . . . . The poetry of earth is ceasing never. - On the Grasshopper and Cricket [Poetry] When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the grasshopper's--he takes the lead In summer luxury--he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. - On the Grasshopper and Cricket [Grasshoppers] And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest The silver clouds. - Posthumous Poems--Sonnets--Oh! How I Love on a Fair Summer's Eve [Zephyrs] A drainless shower Of light is poesy: 'tis the supreme of power; 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm. - Sleep and Poetry (l. 237) [Poetry] To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,--to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. - Sonnet XIV (l. 1) [Country Life] O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap Of murky buildings: climb with me the steep,-- Nature's observatory--whence the dell, In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep 'Mongst boughs pavilion'd, where the deer's swift leap Startles the wild bee from the foxglove bell. - Sonnet--O Solitude! If I must With Thee Dwell [Solitude] There is a budding morrow in midnight. - Sonnet--Standing alone in giant Ignorance [Tomorrow] Son of the old moon-mountains African! Stream of the Pyramid and Crocodile! We call thee fruitful, and that very while A desert fills our seeing's inward span. - Sonnet--To the Nile [Nile River] In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. - Stanzas [December] Displaying page 4 of 5 for this author: << Prev Next >> 1 2 3 [4] 5
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