Praise Sir Topias for a noble tale,
And scorn the story that the knighté told;
Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale,
Grin when he laugheth that beareth all the sway,
Frown when he frowneth and groan when he is pale;
On others’ lust to hang both night and day.
None of these points would ever frame in me,
My wit is nought, I cannot learn the way. (more…)
Mine own John Poins, since ye delight to know
The cause why that homeward I me draw,
And fly the press of courts whereso they go,
Rather than to live thrall, under the awe
Of lordly looks, wrapped within my cloak,
To will and lust learning to set a law; (more…)
So cruel prison how could betide, alas,
As proud Windsor, where I in lust and joy
With a king’s son my childish years did pass
In greater feast than
Priam’s sons of Troy?
Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour; (more…)
From hill to dale, still more and more astray,
Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps,
Stung with the thoughts of home—the thoughts of home
Rush on his nerves and call their vigor forth
In many a vain attempt.
How sinks his soul!
What black despair, what horror fills his heart, (more…)
The keener tempests come: and, fuming dun
From all the livid east or piercing north,
Thick clouds ascend, in whose capacious womb
A vapory deluge lies, to snow congealed.
Heavy they roll their fleecy world along,
And the sky saddens with the gathered storm. (more…)
When Britain first, at heaven’s command,
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain—
“Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves.”
Spare, gen’rous victor, spare the slave,
Who did unequal war pursue;
That more than triumph he might have,
In being overcome by you.
In the dispute whate’er I said,
My heart was by my tongue belied; (more…)
A most gentle Maid,
Who dwelleth in her hospitable home
Hard by the castle, and at latest eve
(Even like a Lady vowed and dedicate
To something more than Nature in the grove)
Glides through the pathways; she knows all their notes, (more…)
Surrendering his whole spirit, of his song
And of his fame forgetful! so his fame
Should share in Nature’s immortality,
A venerable thing! and so his song
Should make all Nature lovelier, and itself
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
You see the glimmer of the stream beneath, (more…)
