Kind solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme⁠— I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revelled in⁠— I have no time to dote or dream...

I saw thee on thy bridal day⁠— When a burning blush came o’er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee: And in thine eye a kindling light (Whatever it might be) Was all o...

Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! though that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ’Twere better than the ...

Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone⁠— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness⁠—for then T...

’Twas noontide of summer, And midtime of night, And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, through the light Of the brighter, cold moon. ’Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the w...

A dark unfathomed tide Of interminable pride⁠— A mystery, and a dream, Should my early life seem; I say that dream was fraught With a wild and waking thought Of beings that have been, Which my spirit ...

In youth I have known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held⁠—as he with it, In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth: Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit From the sun and stars...

In youth I have known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held⁠—as he with it, In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth: Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit From the sun and stars...

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought To a fever3 by the moonbeam that hangs o’er, But I will half believe that wild light fraught With more of sovereignty than ancient lore Hath ever told⁠—or is ...

Doth o’er us pass, when, as th’ expanding eye To the loved object⁠—so the tear to the lid Will start, which lately slept in apathy? And yet it need not be⁠—(that object) hid From us in life⁠—but commo...

Of what in other worlds shall be⁠—and given In beauty by our God, to those alone Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven Drawn by their heart’s passion, and that tone, That high tone of the spir...

In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed⁠— But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted. Ah! what is not a dream by day To him whose eyes are cast On things arou...

The happiest day⁠—the happiest hour My seared and blighted heart hath known, The highest hope of pride and power, I feel hath flown. Of power! said I? Yes! such I ween But they have vanished long, ala...

The happiest day⁠—the happiest hour My seared and blighted heart hath known, The highest hope of pride and power, I feel hath flown....

Of power! said I? Yes! such I ween But they have vanished long, alas! The visions of my youth have been⁠— But let them pass....

And pride, what have I now with thee? Another brow may ev’n inherit The venom thou hast poured on me⁠— Be still my spirit!...

The happiest day⁠—the happiest hour Mine eyes shall see⁠—have ever seen The brightest glance of pride and power I feet have been:...

But were that hope of pride and power Now offered with the pain Ev’n then I felt⁠—that brightest hour I would not live again:...

For on its wing was dark alloy And as it fluttered⁠—fell An essence⁠—powerful to destroy A soul that knew it well....

In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less⁠— So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that tow...

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow Of beauty⁠—the unhidden heart⁠— The playful maziness of art In old Alberto’s daughter; But when within...

From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were⁠—I have not seen As others saw⁠—I could not bring My passions from a common spring⁠— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow⁠—I could not a...

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art! Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart, Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love the...

Elizabeth it is in vain you say “Love not”⁠—thou sayest it in so sweet a way: In vain those words from thee or L. E. L. Zantippe’s talents had enforced so well: Ah! if that language from thy heart ari...

Elizabeth⁠—it surely is most fit [Logic and common usage so commanding] In thy own book that first thy name be writ, Zeno4 and other sages notwithstanding; And I have other reasons for so doing Beside...

O! nothing earthly save the ray (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty’s eye, As in those gardens where the day Springs from the germs of Circassy⁠— O! nothing earthly save the thrill Of melody in woodl...

O! nothing earthly save the ray (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty’s eye, As in those gardens where the day Springs from the germs of Circassy⁠— O! nothing earthly save the thrill Of melody in woodl...

High on a mountain of enamell’d head⁠— Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed Of giant pasturage lying at his ease, Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees With many a mutter’d “hope to be forgiven”...

Romance, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been⁠—a most familiar bird⁠—...

The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see The wantonest singing birds, Are lips⁠—and all thy melody Of lip-begotten words⁠— Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined Then desolately fall, O God! on my funer...

I heed not that my earthly lot Hath⁠—little of Earth in it⁠— That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute:⁠— I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I, But that you sor...

Not long ago, the writer of these lines, In the mad pride of intellectuality, Maintained “the power of words”⁠—denied that ever A thought arose within the human brain Beyond the utterance of the human...

Dim vales⁠—and shadowy floods⁠— And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can’t discover For the tears that drip all over. Huge moons there wax and wane⁠— Again⁠—again⁠—again⁠— Every moment of the nigh...

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines a...

In Heaven a spirit doth dwell “Whose heart-strings are a lute”; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy Stars (so legends tell) Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice,...

How shall the burial rite be read? The solemn song be sung? The requiem for the loveliest dead, That ever died so young? Her friends are gazing on her, And on her gaudy bier, And weep!⁠—oh! to dishono...

How shall the burial rite be read? The solemn song be sung? The requiem for the loveliest dead, That ever died so young?...

Her friends are gazing on her, And on her gaudy bier, And weep!⁠—oh! to dishonor Dead beauty with a tear!...

They loved her for her wealth⁠— And they hated her for her pride⁠— But she grew in feeble health, And they love her⁠—that she died....

They tell me (while they speak Of her “costly broider’d pall”) That my voice is growing weak⁠— That I should not sing at all⁠—...

Or that my tone should be Tun’d to such solemn song So mournfully⁠—so mournfully, That the dead may feel no wrong....

But she is gone above, With young Hope at her side, And I am drunk with love Of the dead, who is my bride.⁠—...

Of the dead⁠—dead who lies All perfum’d there, With the death upon her eyes, And the life upon her hair....

Thus on the coffin loud and long I strike⁠—the murmur sent Through the gray chambers to my song, Shall be the accompaniment....

Thou diedst in thy life’s June⁠— But thou didst not die too fair: Thou didst not die too soon, Nor with too calm an air....

From more than friends on earth, Thy life and love are riven, To join the untainted mirth Of more than thrones in heaven.⁠—...

Therefore, to thee this night I will no requiem raise, But waft thee on thy flight, With a Paean of old days....

At midnight in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And, softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals ...

Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o’er a perfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacint...

Once it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the mid...

Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Of lofty contemplation left to Time By buried centuries of pomp and power! At length⁠—at length⁠—after so many days Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst, (Th...

So sweet the hour⁠—so calm the time, I feel it more than half a crime, When Nature sleeps and stars are mute, To mar the silence ev’n with lute. At rest on ocean’s brilliant dyes An image of Elysium l...

Thou wast all that to me, love, For which my soul did pine⁠— A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream...

At morn⁠—at noon⁠—at twilight dim⁠— Maria! thou hast heard my hymn! In joy and woe⁠—in good and ill⁠— Mother of God, be with me still! When the Hours flew brightly by, And not a cloud obscured the sky...

The ring is on my hand, And the wreath is on my brow; Satins and jewels grand Are all at my command And I am happy now. And my lord he loves me well; But, when first he breathed his vow, I felt my bos...

Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers, Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take! How many memories of what radiant hours At sight of thee and thine at once awake! How many scenes of what d...

In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace⁠— Radiant palace⁠—reared its head. In the monarch Thought’s dominion⁠— It stood there! Never seraph spread a pini...

There are some qualities⁠—some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade. There is a tw...

Lo! ’tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breat...

I dwelt alone In a world of moan, And my soul was a stagnant tide, Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride⁠— Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride. Ah, less⁠—l...

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!⁠—a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river. And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?⁠—weep now or never more! See! on yon drear...

By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named Night, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule⁠— From a wil...

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore⁠— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one g...

Beloved! amid the earnest woes That crowd around my earthly path⁠— (Drear path, alas! where grows Not even one lonely rose)⁠— My soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee, and therein knows An Ede...

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes, Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda, Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader. Search narro...

Of all who hail thy presence as the morning⁠— Of all to whom thine absence is the night⁠— The blotting utterly from out high heaven The sacred sun⁠—of all who, weeping, bless thee Hourly for hope⁠—for...

The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crispèd and sere⁠— The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year; It was hard by th...

Hear the sledges with the bells⁠— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the h...

Hear the sledges with the bells⁠— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars, that oversprinkle All the h...

Hear the mellow wedding bells Golden bells! What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! From the molten golden-notes, And all in ...

Hear the loud alarum bells⁠— Brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only...

Hear the tolling of the bells⁠— Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright At the melancholy meaning of their tone! For e...

Gayly bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old⁠— This knight so bold⁠— And o’er his heart a shadow Fell as he fo...

“Seldom we find,” says Solomon Don Dunce, “Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet. Through all the flimsy things we see at once As easily as through a Naples bonnet⁠— Trash of all trash!⁠—how can a la...

I saw thee once⁠—once only⁠—years ago: I must not say how many⁠—but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway u...

It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by...

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow⁠— You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream: Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a...

Thank Heaven! the crisis⁠— The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last⁠— And the fever called “Living” Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know, I am shorn of my strength, And no muscle I...

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I lon...

Thou wouldst be loved?⁠—then let thy heart From its present pathway part not; Being everything which now thou art, Be nothing which thou art not. So with the world thy gentle ways, Thy grace, thy more...

The earliest version of “Tamerlane” was included in the suppressed volume of 1827, but differs very considerably from the poem as now published. The present draft, besides innumerable verbal alteratio...