Ode
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers . . .
- View 3 Lines
- View Titles Only
Ode on a Grecian Urn
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express . . .
Ode on Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air, . . .
['Often rebuked, yet always back returning']
Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning . . .
Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes
Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes!
How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn!
For me wilt thou renew the withered rose, . . .
Old Ironsides
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see . . .
On a Drop of Dew
See how the orient dew,
Shed from the bosom of the morn
Into the blowing roses, . . .
On the Death of Anne Brontë
THERE 's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I 've lived the parting hour to see . . .
On the Death of Richard West
In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,
And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire;
The birds in vain their amorous descant join;
. . .
On Education
When infant Reason first exerts her sway,
And new-formed thoughts their earliest charms display;
Then let the growing race employ your care . . .
