And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair
By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept
Darkness
Dear Doctor, I Have Read Your Play
The Destruction of Sennacherib
Don Juan: Dedication
Fare Thee Well
Farewell! If Ever Fondest Prayer
The Harp the Monarch Minstrel Swept
I Would I Were a Careless Child
Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog
John Keats
Lachin Y Gair
Lara: Canto The First (Excerpt)
Lines Inscribed Upon a Cup Formed from a Skull
Lines to Mr. Hodgson Written on Board the Lisbon Packet
Manfred
My Soul is Dark
Oh! Snatched Away in Beauty's Bloom
On This Day I Complete My Thirty-sixth Year
Prometheus
Remember Thee! Remember Thee!
The Eve of Waterloo
She walks in Beauty
There be None of Beauty's Daughters
We'll go no more a-roving
When we Two parted
Epistle To Augusta
Churchill's Grave
A Spirit Passed Before Me
On Chillon
Stanzas For Music
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My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
If in these eyes there lurk a tear,
'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.
But bid the strain be wild and deep,
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence, long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once - or yield to song.
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