Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;Conspiring with him how to load and blessWith fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;To bend with apples the moss’d cottage trees,…
Small, busy flames play through the fresh laid coals,And their faint cracklings o’er our silence creepLike whispers of the household gods that keepA gentle empire o’er fraternal souls.And while, for rhymes, I search a…
O soft embalmer of the still midnight!Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light,Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,In midst …
To The Nile by John Keats Son of the old Moon-mountains African!Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile!We call thee fruitful, and that very whileA desert fills our seeing’s inward span:Nurse of swart nations since the wor…
O tower of light, sad beautythat magnified necklaces and statues in the sea,calcareous eye, insignia of the vast waters, cryof the mourning petrel, tooth of the sea, wifeof the Oceanian wind, O separate rosefrom the l…
Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.)In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailorSewing a shroud for a journeyBy the light of the…