O TALK not to me of a name great in story； The days of our youth are the days of our glory； And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth a...
You are tired （I think） Of the always puzzle of living and doing； And so am I. Come with me then And we'll leave it far and far away- （Only you an...
O WORLD！ O Life！ O Time！ On whose last steps I climb Trembling at that where I had stood before； When will return the glory of your prime？ No more&mda...
How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier， As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the sc...
THE MELANCHOLY days have come the saddest of the year Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere； Heaped in the hollows of the grove ...
WHEN half the drowsy world‘s a-bed And misty morning rises red With jollity of horn and lusty cheer Young Nimrod urges on his dwindling rout； Al...
THERE were two youths of equal age， Wit， station， strength， and parentage； They studied at the self-same schools， And shaped their thoughts by common ...
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece. 'Twas a bad deal all round； and dear enough It c...
O THAT 'twere possible After long grief and pain To find the arms of my true love Round me once again！ A shadow flits before me Not thou but like ...
THERE is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite i...