If, gentle stream, by promised sacrifice Of kid or yearling, or by scattered flowers Of votive roses culled from thy thick bowers, Or golden cistus we could thee entice To be propitious to our love, no price Should save these errant flocks: each nook but ours Should shed its eglantine in twinkling showers, For tribute from thy wooded paradise. But...Learn More

He went into the woods a laughing boy; Each flower was in his heart; the happy bird Flitting across the morning sun, or heard From wayside thicket, was to him a joy: The water springs that in their moist employ Leaped from the banks, with many an inward word Spoke to his soul, and every leaf that stirred Found notice from his quickly-glancing...Learn More

Ilion, along whose streets in olden days Shone that divinest form, for whose sweet face A monarch sire, with all his kingly race, Were too content to let their temples blaze— Where art thou now?—no massive columns raise Their serried shafts to heaven; we may not trace Xanthus and Simois, nor each storied place Round which poetic memory fondly...Learn More

I saw two women weeping by the tomb Of one new buried, in a fair green place Bowered with shrubs;—the eve retained no trace Of aught that day performed,—but the faint gloom Of dying day was spread upon the sky;— The moon was broad and bright above the wood;— The distance sounded of a multitude, Music and shout and mingled revelry. At length came...Learn More

Had I the wondrous magic to invest Ideal forms in colour, I would paint Thee, winter, first, by an ideal saint Deep in his beads: on his bare ribs should rest A cross of lichened boughs: and duly pressed Each morn by horny knees, one for each bone, There should be two round hollows in the stone, Whither his bent limbs should be half addressed. And...Learn More