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Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day 'Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Of a trembling leaf,
Even the sighs of grief
To a merry measure ;-
Thou wilt come for pleasure ;-
Spirit of Delight!
And the starry night ;
Of the radiant frost;
And such society
Between thee and me
What diff'rence ? but thou dost possess
And like light can flee,
Spirit, I love thee
P. B. Shelley
The sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The winds', the birds', the ocean-foods' —
I see the Deep's untrampled floor
Arises from its measured motion-
Alas ! I have nor hope nor health,
Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure ;
Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ;
Yet now despair itself is mild
My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea
P. B. Shelley
My days among the Dead are past;
My hopes are with the Dead ; anon
Souls of Poets dead and gone What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host's Canary wine ? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those dainty pies Of Venison ? O generous food! Drest as though bold Robin Hood Would, with his Maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can. I have heard that on a day Mine host's signboard flew away Nobody knew whither, till An astrologer's old quill To a sheepskin gave the storySaid he saw you in your glory Underneath a new-old Sign Sipping beverage divine, And pledging with contented smack The Mermaid in the Zodiac !. Souls of Poets dead and gone What Elysium have ye known--Happy field or mossy cavernChoicer than the Mermaid Tavern ?
Walking so early ;
Singing so rarely.
When shall I marry me?' - When six braw gentlemen
Kirkward shall carry ye.' · Who makes the bridal bed,
Birdie, say truly ?' -' The gray-headed sexton
That delves the grave duly.
Shall light thee steady;
Sir W. Scott
One more Unfortunate.