With a magic like thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean’s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull’d ...
When I am dead, My dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, forget ...
Percy Bysshe Shelley I arise from dreams of thee In the first sleep of night ─ The winds are breathing low And the stars are burning bright. I arise from dreams of thee ─ And a spirit in my fe ...
Tell Me, Where Is Fancy Bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. ...
O fair and stately maid, whose eyes Were kindled in the upper skies At the same torch that lighted mine; For so I must interpret still Thy sweet dominion o’er my will, A sympathy divine. Ah! Le ...
He that loves a rosy cheek Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires; As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and ste ...