Fill For Me A Brimming Bowl poem – John Keats poems

Fill for me a brimming bowl And in it let me drown my soul: But put therein some drug, designed To Banish Women from my mind: For I want not the stream inspiring That fills the mind with–fond desiring, But I want as deep a draught As e’er from Lethe’s wave was quaff’d; From […]

Fancy poem – John Keats poems

Ever let the Fancy roam, Pleasure never is at home: At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth, Like to bubbles when rain pelteth; Then let winged Fancy wander Through the thought still spread beyond her: Open wide the mind’s cage-door, She’ll dart forth, and cloudward soar. O sweet Fancy! let her loose; Summer’s joys are […]

Epistle To My Brother George poem – John Keats poems

Full many a dreary hour have I past, My brain bewildered, and my mind o’ercast With heaviness; in seasons when I’ve thought No spherey strains by me could e’er be caught From the blue dome, though I to dimness gaze On the far depth where sheeted lightning plays; Or, on the wavy grass outstretched […]

Endymion: Book IV poem – John Keats poems

Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual air begot: Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot, While yet our England was a wolfish den; Before our forests heard the talk of men; Before the first of Druids was a child;– […]

Endymion: Book III poem – John Keats poems

There are who lord it o’er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away The comfortable green and juicy hay From human pastures; or, O torturing fact! Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack’d Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe Our gold and ripe-ear’d hopes. With […]

Endymion: Book II poem – John Keats poems

O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm! All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm, And shadowy, through the mist of passed years: For others, good or bad, hatred and tears Have become indolent; but touching thine, One sigh doth echo, one poor sob doth pine, One kiss brings honey-dew from buried […]

Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast As Thou Art poem – John Keats poems

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 […]

Addressed To Haydon poem – John Keats poems

High-mindedness, a jealousy for good, A loving-kindness for the great man’s fame, Dwells here and there with people of no name, In noisome alley, and in pathless wood: And where we think the truth least understood, Oft may be found a “singleness of aim,” That ought to frighten into hooded shame A money-mongering, pitiable […]

A Thing of Beauty (Endymion) poem – John Keats poems

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its lovliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the […]

When the Assault Was Intended to the City poem – John Milton poems

Captain, or colonel, or knight in arms, Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy […]

Upon The Circumcision poem – John Milton poems

Ye flaming Powers, and winged Warriours bright, That erst with Musick, and triumphant song First heard by happy watchful Shepherds ear, So sweetly sung your Joy the Clouds along Through the soft silence of the list’ning night; Now mourn, and if sad share with us to bear Your fiery essence can distill no tear, […]

To the Same poem – John Milton poems

Cyriack, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven’s hand or will, […]

To The Nightingale poem – John Milton poems

O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love; O, […]

To the Lord Generall Cromwell May 1652 poem – John Milton poems

On The Proposalls Of Certaine Ministers At The Committee For Propagation Of The Gospell Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud Not of warr onely, but detractions rude, Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough’d, And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud Hast […]

To the Lady Margaret Ley poem – John Milton poems

Daughter to that good Earl, one President Of England’s Council and her Treasury, Who lived in both unstained with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that Parliament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Ch?ronea, fatal to liberty, Killed with report that old man […]

To Sr Henry Vane The Younger poem – John Milton poems

Vane, young in yeares, but in sage counsell old, Then whome a better Senatour nere held The helme of Rome, when gownes not armes repelld The feirce Epeirot & the African bold, Whether to settle peace, or to unfold The drift of hollow states, hard to be spelld, Then to advise how warr may […]

To My Lord Fairfax poem – John Milton poems

Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings, And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise, And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze. And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings, Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings Victory home, while new Rebellions raise Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays Her broken League to […]

To Mr. Lawrence poem – John Milton poems

Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh […]

To Mr. H. Lawes on His Airs poem – John Milton poems

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas’ ears, committing short and long, Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy to look wan; To after age thou shalt be writ […]

To Mr. Cyriack Skinner Upon His Blindness poem – John Milton poems

Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear To outward view, of blemish or of spot; Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot, Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year, Or man or woman. Yet I argue not Against heavns hand or will, […]

To a Virtuous Young Lady poem – John Milton poems

Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, And with those few art eminently seen, That labour up the Hill of Heavenly Truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth Chosen thou hast, and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their […]

The Passion poem – John Milton poems

I Ere-while of Musick, and Ethereal mirth, Wherwith the stage of Ayr and Earth did ring, And joyous news of heav’nly Infants birth, My muse with Angels did divide to sing; But headlong joy is ever on the wing, In Wintry solstice like the shortn’d light Soon swallow’d up in dark and long out-living […]

The Hymn poem – John Milton poems

I It was the Winter wilde, While the Heav’n-born-childe, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in aw to him Had doff’t her gawdy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. II Only with […]

The Fifth Ode Of Horace. Lib. I poem – John Milton poems

Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit. WHAT slender Youth bedew’d with liquid odours Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave, Pyrrha for whom bind’st thou In wreaths thy golden Hair, Plain in thy neatness; […]

Sonnet to the Nightingale poem – John Milton poems

O nightingale that on yon blooming spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hopes the Lover’s heart dost fill, While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, First heard before the shallow cuckoo’s bill, Portend success in love. O […]

Sonnet 23 poem – John Milton poems

XXIII Methought I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, Whom Jove’s great son to her glad husband gave, Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint Purification in the Old Law did save, And such, as yet […]

Sonnet 22 poem – John Milton poems

XXII Cyriac, this three years’ day these eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heav’n’s hand or […]

Sonnet 21 poem – John Milton poems

XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws; Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And what […]

Sonnet 20 poem – John Milton poems

XX Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire The frozen earth, and clothe in […]

Sonnet 19 poem – John Milton poems

XIX When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide, “Doth God exact […]

Sonnet 18 poem – John Milton poems

XVIII Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes, Which others at their Barr so often wrench: To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting drawes; Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And […]

Sonnet 17 poem – John Milton poems

XVII Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son, Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help wast a sullen day; what may be Won From the hard Season gaining: time will run On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire The frozen earth; and cloth in […]

Sonnet 16 poem – John Milton poems

XVI When I consider how my light is spent, E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodg’d with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, least he returning chide, Doth God exact […]

Sonnet 15 poem – John Milton poems

XV On The Late Massacher In Piemont Avenge O lord thy slaughter’d Saints, whose bones Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold, Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old When all our Fathers worship’t Stocks and Stones, Forget not: in thy book record their groanes Who were thy Sheep and […]

Sonnet 14 poem – John Milton poems

XIV When Faith and Love which parted from thee never, Had ripen’d thy just soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load Of Death, call’d Life; which us from Life doth sever Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod; […]

Sonnet 13 poem – John Milton poems

XIII To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires. Harry whose tuneful and well measur’d Song First taught our English Musick how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas Ears, committing short and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy […]

Sonnet 12 poem – John Milton poems

XII. On the same. I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs By the known rules of antient libertie, When strait a barbarous noise environs me Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs. As when those Hinds that were transform’d to Froggs Raild at Latona’s twin-born progenie Which after held the […]

Sonnet 11 poem – John Milton poems

XI A Book was writ of late call’d Tetrachordon; And wov’n close, both matter, form and stile; The Subject new: it walk’d the Town a while, Numbring good intellects; now seldom por’d on. Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on A title page is this! and some in file Stand spelling fals, […]

Sonnet 10 poem – John Milton poems

X Daughter to that good Earl, once President Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury, Who liv’d in both, unstain’d with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that Parlament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty Kil’d with report that Old […]