I wander thro’ each charter’d stre… Near where the charter’d Thames d… And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man,

The sun descending in the west, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest… And I must seek for mine. The moon, like a flower

O THOU who passest thro’ our val… Thy strength, curb thy fierce stee… That flames from their large nostr… Oft pitched’st here thy golden ten… Beneath our oaks hast slept, while…

Preludium to the First Book of U… 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.

What is it men in women do require The lineaments of Gratified Desir… What is it women do in men require The lineaments of Gratified Desir…

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,

Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody poor, And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we. And mutual fear brings Peace,

GOLDEN APOLLO, that thro’ he… Scatter’st the rays of light, and… In lucent words my darkling verses… And wash my earthy mind in thy cle… That wisdom may descend in fairy d…

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...

My mother groan’d! my father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt: Helpless, naked, piping loud, Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father’s hands,

Cruelty has a human heart And jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,

Youth of delight! come hither And see the opening morn, Image of Truth new-born. Doubt is fled, and clouds of reaso… Dark disputes and artful teazing.

The sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring To welcome the spring. The skylark and thrush,

COME, kings, and listen to my so… When Gwin, the son of Nore, Over the nations of the North His cruel sceptre bore; The nobles of the land did feed