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ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S
HOMER Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : -Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific-and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
And feed his sacred flame.
Beside the ruin'd tower.
My own dear Genevieve !
She lean’d against the arméd man,
Amid the lingering light.
The songs that make her grieve.
That ruin wild and hoary.
But gaze upon her face.
The Lady of the Land.
Interpreted my own.
Too fondly on her face!
Nor rested day nor night ;
In green and sunny glade,
There came and look'd him in the face
This miserable Knight !
The Lady of the Land ;And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees; And how she tended him in vainAnd ever strove to expiate
The scorn that crazed his brain ;-
A dying man he lay ;-
Disturbid her soul with pity!
The rich and balmy eve;
Šubdued and cherish'd long !
I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved-she stepp'd aside, As conscious of my look she steptThen suddenly, with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.
She half inclosed me with her arms,
And gazed upon my face.
The swelling of her heart,
S. T. Coleridge
ALL FOR LOVE O talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is
wrinkled ? 'Tis but as a dead flower with May-dew be
sprinkled : Then away with all such from the head that is
hoaryWhat care I for the wreaths that can only give glory? Oh fame !--if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover She thought that I was not unworthy to love her. There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my
story, I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.
And Greta woods are green,
Would grace a summer-queen.
Beneath the turrets high,
Was singing merrily :
And Greta woods are green ;
Than reign our English queen.'
To leave both tower and town,
That dwell by dale and down.
As read full well you may,
As blithe as Queen of May.'
And Greta woods are green ;
Than reign our English queen. 'I read you, by your bugle-horn
And by your palfrey good, I read you for a ranger sworn
To keep the king's greenwood.' *A Ranger, lady, winds his horn,
And 'tis at peep of light ;
And mine at dead of night.'
And Greta woods are gay ;
To reign his Queen of May !