An Ode to Himself

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet LXXIX Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decay’d And my sick Muse doth give another place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He robs […]...
2. Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid, My verse alone had all thy gentle grace, But now my gracious numbers are decayed, And my sick Muse doth give an other place. I grant, sweet love, thy lovely argument Deserves the travail of a worthier pen, Yet what of thee thy poet doth invent He […]...
3. Sonnet LXXVIII So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use And under thee their poesy disperse. Thine eyes that taught the dumb on high to sing And heavy ignorance aloft to fly Have added feathers to the learned’s wing And […]...
4. Sonnet 78: So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse, And found such fair assistance in my verse As every alien pen hath got my use, And under thee their poesy disperse. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing, And heavy ignorance aloft to fly, Have added feathers to the learnèd’s wing And […]...
5. Sonnet IV: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free: Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums, yet […]...
6. The Victory of Patience Armed of the gods! Divinest conqueror! What soundless hosts are thine! Nor pomp, nor state, Nor token, to betray where thou dost wait. All Nature stands, for thee, ambassador; Her forces all thy serfs, for peace or war. Greatest and least alike, thou rul’st their fate, The avalanch chained until its century’s date, The mulberry […]...
7. Sonnet I: Favour'd by Heav'n Favour’d by Heav’n are those, ordain’d to taste The bliss supreme that kindles fancy’s fire; Whose magic fingers sweep the muses’ lyre, In varying cadence, eloquently chaste! Well may the mind, with tuneful numbers grac’d, To Fame’s immortal attributes aspire, Above the treach’rous spells of low desire, That wound the sense, by vulgar joys debas’d. […]...
8. Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse, The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums yet […]...
9. Sonnet IV Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing but doth lend, And being frank she lends to those are free. Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuse The bounteous largess given thee to give? Profitless usurer, why dost thou use So great a sum of sums, yet canst […]...
10. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE Whither dost thou hurry me, Bacchus, being full of thee? This way, that way, that way, this, Here and there a fresh Love is; That doth like me, this doth please; Thus a thousand mistresses I have now: yet I alone, Having all, enjoy not one!...
11. To George Sand: A Recognition TRUE genius, but true woman! dost deny The woman’s nature with a manly scorn And break away the gauds and armlets worn By weaker women in captivity? Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry Is sobbed in by a woman’s voice forlorn, Thy woman’s hair, my sister, all unshorn Floats back dishevelled strength in agony Disproving […]...
12. Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! That tongue that tells the story of thy days, Making lascivious comments on thy sport, Cannot dispraise, but in a kind […]...
13. Sonnet XCV How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! That tongue that tells the story of thy days, Making lascivious comments on thy sport, Cannot dispraise but in a kind […]...
14. An Ode to Master Endymion Porter, Upon His Brother's Death Not all thy flushing suns are set, Herrick, as yet ; Nor doth this far-drawn hemisphere Frown and look sullen ev’rywhere. Days may conclude in nights, and suns may rest As dead within the west ; Yet, the next morn, regild the fragrant east. Alas! for me, that I have lost E’en all almost ; […]...
15. The Hawk Thou dost not fly, thou art not perched, The air is all around: What is it that can keep thee set, From falling to the ground? The concentration of thy mind Supports thee in the air; As thou dost watch the small young birgs, With such a deadly care. My mind has such a hawk […]...
16. Employment (I) If as a flower doth spread and die, Thou wouldst extend me to some good, Before I were by frost’s extremity Nipt in the bud; The sweetness and the praise were thine; But the extension and the room, Which in thy garland I should fill, were mine At thy great doom. For as thou dost […]...
17. Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames […]...
18. Sonnet LXI Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames […]...
19. Holy Sonnet XIII: What If This Present Were The World's Last Night? What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether that countenance can thee affright, Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light, Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell. And can that tongue adjudge […]...
20. Psalm 88 Lord God that dost me save and keep, All day to thee I cry; And all night long, before thee weep Before thee prostrate lie. Into thy presence let my praier With sighs devout ascend And to my cries, that ceaseless are, Thine ear with favour bend. For cloy’d with woes and trouble store Surcharg’d […]...
21. TO MUSIC Begin to charm, and as thou strok’st mine ears With thine enchantment, melt me into tears. Then let thy active hand scud o’er thy lyre, And make my spirits frantic with the fire; That done, sink down into a silvery strain, And make me smooth as balm and oil again....
22. On a Dead Child Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee, With promise of strength and manhood full and fair! Though cold and stark and bare, The bloom and the charm of life doth awhile remain on thee. Thy mother’s treasure wert thou;-alas! no longer To visit her heart with wondrous joy; to be Thy father’s pride:-ah, […]...
23. SONNET OF AUTUMN THEY say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes: “Why dost thou love me so, strange lover mine?” Be sweet, be still! My heart and soul despise All save that antique brute-like faith of thine; And will not bare the secret of their shame To thee whose hand soothes me to slumbers long, Nor their […]...
24. Oh, Could We Do With This World of Ours Oh, could we do with this world of ours As thou dost with thy garden bowers, Reject the weeds and keep the flowers, What a heaven on earth we’d make it! So bright a dwelling should be our own, So warranted free from sigh or frown, That angels soon would be coming down, By the […]...
25. The Half-way House Love I was shewn upon the mountain-side And bid to catch Him ere the dropp of day. See, Love, I creep and Thou on wings dost ride: Love it is evening now and Thou away; Love, it grows darker here and Thou art above; Love, come down to me if Thy name be Love. My […]...
26. The Maid Of Orleans Humanity’s bright image to impair. Scorn laid thee prostrate in the deepest dust; Wit wages ceaseless war on all that’s fair, In angel and in God it puts no trust; The bosom’s treasures it would make its prey, Besieges fancy, dims e’en faith’s pure ray. Yet issuing like thyself from humble line, Like thee a […]...
27. The Weeping Babe She kneels by the cradle Where Jesus doth lie; Singing, Lullaby, my Baby! But why dost Thou cry? The babes of the village Smile sweetly in sleep; And lullaby, my Baby, That ever dost weep! I’ve wrapped Thee in linen, The gift of the Kings; And wool, soft and fleecy, The kind Shepherd brings. Now […]...
28. Song On May Morning Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose. Hail bounteous May that dost inspire Mirth and youth, and warm desire, Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing, Hill and Dale, doth […]...
29. A Dead Rose O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat, – Kept seven years in a drawer – thy titles shame thee. The breeze that used to blow thee Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away An odour up the lane to […]...
30. The Under-Dogs What have we done, Oh Lord, that we Are evil starred? How have we erred and sinned to be So scourged and scarred? Lash us, Oh Lord, with scorpion whips, We can but run; But harken to our piteous lips: What have we done? How have we sinned to rouse your wrath, To earn your […]...
31. To A Young Ass Its mother being tethered near it Poor little Foal of an oppressиd race! I love the languid patience of thy face: And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread, And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head. But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay’d, That never thou dost sport along the glade? And […]...
32. The Thanksgiving Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true, To thee of all kings only due) Oh King of wounds! how shall I grieve for thee, Who in all grief preventest me? Shall I weep blood? why thou has wept such store That all thy body was one door. Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, […]...
33. To The Nile Son of the old Moon-mountains African! Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile! We call thee fruitful, and that very while A desert fills our seeing’s inward span: Nurse of swart nations since the world began, Art thou so fruitful? or dost thou beguile Such men to honour thee, who, worn with toil, Rest for a […]...
34. To Heaven Good and great God, can I not think of thee But it must straight my melancholy be? Is it interpreted in me disease That, laden with my sins, I seek for ease? Oh be thou witness, that the reins dost know And hearts of all, if I be sad for show, And judge me after; […]...
35. If By Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain'd If by dull rhymes our English must be chain’d, And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet sweet Fetter’d, in spite of pained loveliness; Let us find out, if we must be constrain’d, Sandals more interwoven and complete To fit the naked foot of poesy; Let us inspect the lyre, and weigh the stress Of every chord, and […]...
36. Sonnet 21 – Say over again, and yet once over again Say over again, and yet once over again, That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated Should seem ‘a cuckoo-song,’ as thou dost treat it, Remember, never to the hill or plain, Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted By […]...
37. Sonnet X: To Nothing Fitter To nothing fitter can I thee compare Than to the son of some rich penny-father, Who, having now brought on his end with care, Leaves to his son all he had heap’d together; This new rich novice, lavish of his chest, To one man gives, doth on another spend, Then here he riots, yet among […]...
38. Sonnet CXXIII No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire What thou dost foist upon us that is old, And rather make them born to […]...
39. Something Left Undone Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. By the bedside, on the stair, At the threshhold, near the gates, With its menace or its prayer, Like a medicant it waits; Waits, and will not go away; Waits, and will not be gainsaid; By […]...
40. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet II Why dost thou beat thy breast and rend thine hair, And to the deaf sea pour thy frantic cries? Before the gale the laden vessel flies; The Heavens all-favoring smile, the breeze is fair; Hark to the clamors of the exulting crew! Hark how their thunders mock the patient skies! Why dost thou shriek and […]...