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English poet
(1792 - 1822)
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There the sea I found
  Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.
      - The Revolt of Islam (canto I, st. 15)

With hue like that when some great painter dips
  His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse.
      - The Revolt of Islam (canto V, st. 23)

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
  And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
    And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light,
      And clothed them beneath the kisses of night.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I)
        [Sensitive Plants]

And the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue,
  Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew
    Of music so delicate, soft, and intense,
      It was felt like an odour within the sense.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I) [Hyacinths]

And the Naiad-like lily of the vale,
  Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale,
    That the light of its tremulous bells is seen,
      Through their pavilions of tender green.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I)

And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest,
  Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast,
    Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air,
      The soul of her beauty and love lay bare.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I) [Roses]

And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
  As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
    Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
      Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I) [Lilies]

Broad water-lilies lay tremulously,
  And starry river-buds glimmered by,
    And around them the soft stream did glide and dance
      With a motion of sweet sound and radiance.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I) [Water Lilies]

For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower;
  Radiance and odour are not its dower;
    It loves, even like Love, its deep heart is full,
      It desires what it has not, the beautiful.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I)
        [Sensitive Plants]

In an ocean of dreams without a sound.
      - The Sensitive Plant (pt. I, st. 26)

In the warm shadow of her loveliness;--
  He kissed her with his beams.
      - The Witch of Atlas (st. 2) [Sun]

A lovely lady, garmented in light
  From her own beauty.
      - The Witch of Atlas (st. 5) [Beauty : Women]

Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
  Ocean of Time, whose water of deep woe
    Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
      Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
        Claspest the limits of mortality!
          And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
            Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore,
              Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
                Who shall put forth on thee,
                  Unfathomable sea?
      - Time [Time]

Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew,
  Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue
    Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.
      - To a Skylark [Glowworms]

We look before and after,
  And pine for what is not,
    Our sincerest laughter
      With some pain is fraught:
        Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
      - To a Skylark (st. 18) [Sadness]

Better than all measures
  Of delightful sound,
    Better than all treasures
      That in books are found,
        Thy skilled to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
      - To a Skylark (st. 20) [Larks]

Hail to thee blithe Spirit!
  Bird thou never wert,
    That from Heaven, or near it,
      Pourest thy full heart
        In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
      - To a Skylark (st. 20) [Larks]

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
  A tone
    Of some world far from ours,
      Where music and moonlight and feeling
        Are one.
      - To Jane--The Keen Stars were Twinkling

Swiftly walk over the western wave,
  Spirit of Night!
      - To Night [Night]

Art thou pale for weariness
  Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth,
    Wandering companionless
      Among the stars that have a different birth,--
        And ever changing, like a joyous eye
          That finds no object worth its constancy?
      - To the Moon [Moon]

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.
      - To Wordsworth (l. 12) [Songs]

The desire of the moth for the star,
  Of the night for the morrow,
    The devotion to something afar
      From the sphere of our sorrow.
      - To---- One Word is too Often Profaned.

Where art thou, beloved To-morrow?
  When young and old, and strong and weak,
    Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,
      Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,--
        In thy place--ah! well-a-day!
          We find the thing we fled--To-day!
      - To-Morrow [Tomorrow]

The silver key of the fountain of tears.
      - Two Fragments to Music [Tears]

'Twas his ambition, generous and great
  A life to life's great end to consecrate.
      - Washington [Washington, George]

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