#Aphorism #Imagery #Metaphor
q|Preludium to the First Book of… Of the primeval Priest’s assum’d… When Eternals spurn’d back his Re… And gave him a place in the North… Obscure, shadowy, void, solitary.
Once a dream did weave a shade O’er my angel—guarded bed, That an emmet lost its way Where on grass methought I lay. Troubled, wildered and forlorn,
Can I see another’s woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear,
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,
O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed
WHEN early morn walks forth in s… Then to my black-eyed maid I hast… When evening sits beneath her dusk… And gently sighs away the silent h… The village bell alarms, away I g…
I dreamt a dream! What can it me… And that I was a maiden Queen Guarded by an Angel mild: Witless woe was ne’er beguiled! And I wept both night and day,
LITTLE PHOEBUS came struttin… With his fat belly and his round c… What is it you would please to hav… Ho! Ho! I won’t let it go at only so and s…
LO! the Bat with leathern wing, Winking and blinking, Winking and blinking, Winking and blinking, Like Dr. Johnson.
THIS city and this country has b… To sit in state, and give forth la… With face as brown as any nut with… Good English hospitality, O then… With scarlet gowns and broad gold…
‘O WINTER! bar thine adamantine… The north is thine; there hast tho… Deep-founded habitation. Shake no… Nor bend thy pillars with thine ir… He hears me not, but o’er the yawn…
HEAR then the pride and knowledg… His sprit sail, fore sail, main sa… A poor frail man—God wot! I know… I know no greater sinner than Joh…
THE VEILED Evening walked solitary down the western hills, and Silence reposed in the valley; the birds of day were heard in their nests, rustling in brakes and thickets; and the owl an...
WHO is this, that with unerring step dares tempt the wilds, where only Nature’s foot hath trod? ’Tis Contemplation, daughter of the grey Morning! Majestical she steppeth, and with her p...
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!”