Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf/ Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself. |
Like an army defeated/ The snow hath retreated. |
Like, -- but oh how different! |
Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none; Look up a second time, and, one by one, You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, And wonder how they could elude the sight! |
Lost in a gloom of uninspired research. |
Maidens withering on the stalk. |
Many are our joys In youth, but oh! what happiness to live When every hour brings palpable access Of knowledge, when all knowledge is delight, And sorrow is not there! |
Mark the babe not long accustomed to this breathing world; One that hath barely learned to shape a smile, though yet irrational of soul, to grasp with tiny finger -- to let fall a tear; And, as the heavy cloud of sleep dissolves, To stretch his limbs, becoming, as might seem. The outward functions of intelligent man. |
Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great, is passed away. |
Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive. |
More like a man/ Flying from something that he dreads than one/ Who sought the thing he loved. |
More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure,/ As tempted more; more able to endure,/ As more exposed to suffering and distress. |
My brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being. |
My days, my friend, are almost gone, My life has been approved, And many love me; but by none Am I enough beloved. |
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky. |