Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O’Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be?— By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch-tree! The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, And whistled and roared in the winter alone, Is gone,—and the birch in its stead is grown.— The knight’s bones are dust, And his good sword rust;— His soul is with the saints, I trust.
Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks; strong foot! yet ill able Ever to come up with dactyl trisyllable. Iambics march from short to long;— With a leap and a bound the swift Anapæsts throng; One syllable long, with one short at each side,...
Cologne IN Köln, a town of monks and bones, And pavements fanged with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches,— I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well-defined and several stinks! Ye nymphs that reign o’er sewers and sinks, The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your...
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course? So long he seems to pause On thy bald, awful head, O sovran Blanc! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form, Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines How silently! Around thee and above, Deep is...
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O’Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be?— By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch-tree! The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, And whistled and roared in...
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 1 A stately pleasure-dome decree Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens, bright with sinuous rills, Where...
