Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast As Thou Art
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death
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Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone, The
Human Seasons, The
Fancy
When I Have Fears That I May Ceasa To Be
Where Be You Going, you Devon Maid?
When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be
To Autumn
Terror of Death, The
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