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 the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir:
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted...
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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 gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’T is some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more.”Ah,...
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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 pinion
Over fabric half so fair.Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow
(This—all... -
From the German by James Clarence Mangan
HARK! the faint bells of the sunken city
Peal once more their wonted evening chime!
From the deep abysses floats a ditty,
Wild and wondrous, of the olden time.Temples, towers, and domes of many stories
There lie buried in an ocean grave,—
Undescried, save when their golden glories... -
HAMELIN Town ’s in Brunswick,
By famous Hanover City;
The river Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side;
A pleasanter spot you never spied;
But when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin was a pity.Rats!
They fought the... -
As chimes that flow o’er shining seas
When Morn alights on meads of May,
Faint voices fill the western breeze
With whisp’ring songs from Far-Away.
Oh, dear the dells of Dunamore,
A home is odorous Ossory;
But sweet as honey, running o’er,
The Golden Shore of Far-Away!There grows the Tree whose summer...
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So much to do: so little done!
Ah! yesternight I saw the sun
Sink beamless down the vaulted gray,—
The ghastly ghost of YESTERDAY.So little done: so much to do!
Each morning breaks on conflicts new;
But eager, brave, I ’ll join the fray,
And fight the battle of TO-DAY.So much to do: so little done!
But when it ’s o’... -
Farewell, my Youth! for now we needs must part,
For here the paths divide;
Here hand from hand must sever, heart from heart,—
Divergence deep and wide.You ’ll wear no withered roses for my sake,
Though I go mourning for you all day long,
Finding no magic more in bower or brake,
No melody in song.Gray Eld must travel in...
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From “The Song of Myself”
A CHILD said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,... -
In a valley, centuries ago,
Grew a little fern-leaf, green and slender,
Veining delicate and fibres tender;
Waving when the wind crept down so low.
Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it,
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it,
Drops of dew stole in by night, and crowned it,
But no foot of man e’er trod that way;...