Lines from Endymion

Related poetry:

1. A Thing of Beauty (Endymion) A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its lovliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, […]...
2. Endymion: Book I ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. “THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG.” INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book I A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, […]...
3. The Drug-Shop, or, Endymion in Edmonstoun “Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never make his way.” Letter of George Keats, 18 Night falls; the great jars glow against the dark, Dark green, dusk red, and, like a coiling snake, Writhing eternally in smoky gyres, Great ropes of gorgeous […]...
4. Endymion: Book II O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm! All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm, And shadowy, through the mist of passed years: For others, good or bad, hatred and tears Have become indolent; but touching thine, One sigh doth echo, one poor sob doth pine, One kiss brings honey-dew from buried days. […]...
5. Endymion: Book IV Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual air begot: Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot, While yet our England was a wolfish den; Before our forests heard the talk of men; Before the first of Druids was a child; Long […]...
6. Endymion: Book III There are who lord it o’er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away The comfortable green and juicy hay From human pastures; or, O torturing fact! Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack’d Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe Our gold and ripe-ear’d hopes. With not […]...
7. The seed of endymion or how most great achievements stem from accidental discoveries Two beauties are a joy for ever Ejaculated keats Lusting in ecstasy towards Well-breasted fanny brawne No no my dearest john Sighed fanny Facing the quivering man You’ve got it wrong – from where i am She whispered – creeping Downwards with her hands It’s better […]...
8. Song of the Indian Maid, from 'Endymion&#039 O SORROW! Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips? To give maiden blushes To the white rose bushes? Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips? O Sorrow! Why dost borrow The lustrous passion from a falcon-eye? To give the glow-worm light? Or, on a moonless night, To tinge, on […]...
9. Lines Unfelt unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who – who could tell how much There is for madness – cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist! – they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into […]...
10. A still Volcano Life A still Volcano Life That flickered in the night When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight A quiet Earthquake Style Too subtle to suspect By natures this side Naples The North cannot detect The Solemn Torrid Symbol The lips that never lie Whose hissing Corals part and shut And Cities ooze away...
11. Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world’s a song; “She’s far,” it sings me, “but fair,” it rings me, “Quiet,” it laughs, “and strong!” Oh! spite of the miles and years between us, Spite of your chosen part, I do remember; and I go With laughter in my heart. So […]...
12. 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 ; […]...
13. Lines On A Young Lady's Photograph Album At last you yielded up the album, which Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages Matt and glossy on the thick black pages! Too much confectionery, too rich: I choke on such nutritious images. My swivel eye hungers from pose to pose In pigtails, clutching a reluctant cat; Or furred yourself, a sweet girl-graduate; […]...
14. Lines Written Among The Euganean Hills Many a green isle needs must be In the deep wide sea of Misery, Or the mariner, worn and wan, Never thus could voyage on – Day and night, and night and day, Drifting on his dreary way, With the solid darkness black Closing round his vessel’s track: Whilst above the sunless sky, Big with […]...
15. Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill And thou wert sad-yet I was not with thee! And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near; Methought that joy and health alone could be Where I was not-and pain and sorrow here. And is it thus?-it is as I foretold, And shall be more so; for the mind recoils Upon itself, and […]...
16. Lines from I’d rather have my verses win A place in common people’s hearts, Who, toiling through the strife and din Of life’s great thoroughfares, and marts, May read some line my hand has penned; Some simple verse, not fine, or grand, But what their hearts can understand And hold me henceforth as a friend, I’d rather […]...
17. Moon Then are you the dense everywhere that moves, The dark matter they haven’t yet walked through? No, I’m not. I’m just the shining sun, Sometimes covered up by the darkness. But in your beauty-yes, I know you see- There is no covering, no constant light....
18. Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull Start not-nor deem my spirit fled: In me behold the only skull From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaffed like thee; I died: let earth my bones resign: Fill up-thou canst not injure me; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the […]...
19. Endymion The rising moon has hid the stars; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between. And silver white the river gleams, As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. On such a tranquil night as this, She woke Endymion with a […]...
20. Lines on Hearing it Declared that No Women Were So Handsome as the English BEAUTY, the attribute of Heaven! In various forms to mortals given, With magic skill enslaves mankind, As sportive fancy sways the mind. Search the wide world, go where you will, VARIETY pursues you still; Capricious Nature knows no bound, Her unexhausted gifts are found In ev’ry clime, in ev’ry face, Each has its own peculiar […]...
21. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines I walked among the seven woods of Coole: Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn; Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no, Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden hy green houghs Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee, Where hazel and ash and privet hlind […]...
22. Sonnet On An Alpine Night My hand, a little raised, might press a star- Where I may look, the frosted peaks are spun, So shaped before Olympus was begun, Spanned each to each, now, by a silver bar. Thus to face Beauty have I traveled far, But now, as if around my heart were run Hard, lacing fingers, so I […]...
23. Considering The Snail The snail pushes through a green Night, for the grass is heavy With water and meets over The bright path he makes, where rain Has darkened the earth’s dark. He Moves in a wood of desire, Pale antlers barely stirring As he hunts. I cannot tell What power is at work, drenched there With purpose, […]...
24. ENDYMION (For music) The apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told, I know he will come back to me. O rising moon! O Lady moon! Be you my lover’s sentinel, You cannot choose […]...
25. My Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound My spirit will not haunt the mound Above my breast, But travel, memory-possessed, To where my tremulous being found Life largest, best. My phantom-footed shape will go When nightfall grays Hither and thither along the ways I and another used to know In backward days. And there you’ll find me, if a jot You still […]...
26. Symptoms of Love Love is universal migraine, A bright stain on the vision Blotting out reason. Symptoms of true love Are leanness, jealousy, Laggard dawns; Are omens and nightmares – Listening for a knock, Waiting for a sign: For a touch of her fingers In a darkened room, For a searching look. Take courage, lover! Could you endure […]...
27. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide; The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed, Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold; And thine own sadness, where of stars, grown old In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea, Sing in […]...
28. Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie Those lines that I before have writ do lie, Even those that said I could not love you dearer; Yet then my judgment knew no reason why My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer, But reckoning Time, whose millioned accidents Creep in ‘twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Tan sacred beauty, blunt the […]...
29. The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast, Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone, Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang’rous waist! Faded the flower and all its budded charms, Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes, Faded the shape of beauty from my […]...
30. To Certain Critics Then call me traitor if you must, Shout reason and default! Say I betray a sacred trust Aching beyond this vault. I’ll bear your censure as your praise, For never shall the clan Confine my singing to its ways Beyond the ways of man. No racial option narrows grief, Pain is not patriot, And sorrow […]...
31. Lines For Winter Tell yourself As it gets cold and gray falls from the air That you will go on Walking, hearing The same tune no matter where You find yourself Inside the dome of dark Or under the cracking white Of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow. Tonight as it gets cold Tell yourself What […]...
32. Through These Pale Cold Days Through these pale cold days What dark faces burn Out of three thousand years, And their wild eyes yearn, While underneath their brows Like waifs their spirits grope For the pools of Hebron again For Lebanon’s summer slope. They leave these blond still days In dust behind their tread They see with living eyes How […]...
33. Lines Written In Dejection When have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long wavering bodies Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most noble ladies, For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone. The holy centaurs of the hills are vanished; I have nothing but the […]...
34. In A Breton Cemetery They sleep well here, These fisher-folk who passed their anxious days In fierce Atlantic ways; And found not there, Beneath the long curled wave, So quiet a grave. And they sleep well, These peasant-folk, who told their lives away, From day to market-day, As one should tell, With patient industry, Some sad old rosary. And […]...
35. The Philosopher And what are you that, wanting you, I should be kept awake As many nights as there are days With weeping for your sake? And what are you that, missing you, As many days as crawl I should be listening to the wind And looking at the wall? I know a man that’s a braver […]...
36. 320. Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart THOU, who thy honour as thy God rever’st, Who, save thy mind’s reproach, nought earthly fear’st, To thee this votive offering I impart, The tearful tribute of a broken heart. The Friend thou valued’st, I, the Patron lov’d; His worth, his honour, all the world approved: We’ll mourn till we too go as he has […]...
37. Lines Written in Kensington Gardens In this lone, open glade I lie, Screen’d by deep boughs on either hand; And at its end, to stay the eye, Those black-crown’d, red-boled pine-trees stand! Birds here make song, each bird has his, Across the girdling city’s hum. How green under the boughs it is! How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come! Sometimes a […]...
38. An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy. An Arab shepherd and a Jewish father Both in their temporary failure. Our two voices met above The Sultan’s Pool in the valley between us. Neither of us wants the boy or […]...
39. Lines With many a pause and oft reverted eye I climb the Coomb’s ascent: sweet songsters near Warble in shade their wild-wood melody: Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear. Up scour the startling stragglers of the flock That on green plots o’er precipices browze: From the deep fissures of the naked rock The Yew-tree […]...
40. Long-Legged Fly That civilisation may not sink, Its great battle lost, Quiet the dog, tether the pony To a distant post; Our master Caesar is in the tent Where the maps ate spread, His eyes fixed upon nothing, A hand under his head. Like a long-legged fly upon the stream His mind moves upon silence. That the […]...