#RhymedStanza
My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish’d air, By love are driv’n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave:
“I have no name: I am but two days old.” What shall I call thee? “I happy am, Joy is my name.”
WHEN silver snow decks Sylvio’s… And jewel hangs at shepherd’s nose… We can abide life’s pelting storm, That makes our limbs quake, if our… Whilst Virtue is our walking-staf…
HOW sweet 1 I roam’d from field… And tasted all the summer’s pride, Till I the Prince of Love beheld Who in the sunny beams did glide! He show’d me lilies for my hair,
Sound the flute! Now it’s mute. Birds delight Day and night. Nightingale
Ah! sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden cl… Where the traveller’s journey is d… Where the youth pined away with de…
I will sing you a song of Los, th… He sung it to four harps, at the t… In heart-formèd Africa. Urizen faded! Ariston shudder’d! And thus the Song began:—
THOU fair-hair’d angel of the ev… Now, whilst the sun rests on the m… Thy bright torch of love; thy radi… Put on, and smile upon our evening… Smile on our loves, and while thou…
LEAVE, O leave me to my sorrows… Here I’ll sit and fade away, Till I’m nothing but a spirit, And I lose this form of clay. Then if chance along this forest
Cruelty has a human heart And jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,
Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight,
LOVE and harmony combine, And around our souls entwine While thy branches mix with mine, And our roots together join. Joys upon our branches sit,
Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I
THIS city and this country has b… To sit in state, and give forth la… With face as brown as any nut with… Good English hospitality, O then… With scarlet gowns and broad gold…
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies