Thou art gone the dark journey That leaves no returning 'Tis fruitless to mourn thee But who can help mourning To think of the life That did laugh on thy brow In the beautiful past Left so desolate now When youth seemed immortal So sweet did it weave Heaven's halo around thee Earth's hopes to deceive Thou fairest and dearest Where many were...Learn More

Elia, thy reveries and visioned themes To care's lorn heart a luscious pleasure prove; Wild as the mystery of delightful dreams, Soft as the anguish of remembered love: Like records of past days their memory dances Mid the cool feelings manhood's reason brings, As the unearthly visions of romances Peopled with sweet and uncreated things;-- And yet...Learn More

Wordsworth I love, his books are like the fields, Not filled with flowers, but works of human kind; The pleasant weed a fragrant pleasure yields, The briar and broomwood shaken by the wind, The thorn and bramble o'er the water shoot A finer flower than gardens e'er gave birth, The aged huntsman grubbing up the root-- I love them all as tenants of...Learn More