Hear the voice of the Bard, Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walked among the ancient tree; Calling the lapsed soul, And weeping in the evening
Once a dream did weave a shade, O’er my Angel-guarded bed. That an Emmet lost it’s way Where on grass methought I lay. Troubled wildered and forlorn Dark benighted travel-worn, Over many a tangled
Of the primeval Priests assum’d power, When Eternals spurn’d back his religion; And gave him a place in the north, Obscure, shadowy, void, solitary. Eternals I hear your call gladly, Dictate swift winged words,
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch’s right hand, red as wines 85 From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, 86
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love. All pray in their distress: And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy Pity Peace and Love, Is God our Father dear: And Mercy Pity
Never seek to tell thy love Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, I told her all my heart,
1. But Los saw the Female & pitied He embrac’d her, she wept, she refus’d In perverse and cruel delight She fled from his arms, yet he followd 2. Eternity shudder’d when they saw,
All the night in woe, Lyca’s parents go: Over vallies deep. While the desarts weep. Tired and woe-begone. Hoarse with making moan: Arm in arm seven days. They trac’d the desert ways. Seven nights
England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy Sister calls! Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death And close her from thy ancient walls? Thy hills and valleys felt her feet Gently upon their bosoms
Thou fair hair’d angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of love; Thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! Smile on
1.1 “What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song? 1.2 Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price 1.3 Of all that
Love and harmony combine, And round our souls entwine While thy branches mix with mine, And our roots together join. Joys upon our branches sit, Chirping loud and singing sweet; Like gentle streams beneath
A little black thing among the snow: Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe! Where are thy father & mother? say? They are both gone up to the church to pray. Because I was
Tyger Tyger. burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye. Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what
Piping down the valleys wild Piping songs of pleasant glee On a cloud I saw a child. And he laughing said to me. Pipe a song about a Lamb: So I piped with merry
Page 3 of 9«12345...»Last »