IO. "I saw pale kings and princes too, They cried Hath thee in thrall!' II. "I saw their starved lips in the gloam, On the cold hill's side. 12. "And this is why I sojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, SONNETS. I. On first looking into Chapman's Homer. MUCH have I travell'd in the realms of gold, That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne; Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: 40 45 5 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 star'd at the Pacific - and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise Silent, upon a peak in Darien. II. DEDICATION. To Leigh Hunt, Esq. GLORY and loveliness have passed away; No wreathed incense do we see upborne No crowd of nymphs soft voic'd and young, and gay, A leafy luxury, seeing I could please 1Ο 5 III. Written on the day that Mr. Leigh Hunt left Prison. WHAT though, for showing truth to flatter'd state, In his immortal spirit, been as free As the sky-searching lark, and as elate. Minion of grandeur! think you he did wait? 5 IO IV. How many bards gild the lapses of time! Of my delighted fancy, — I could brood These will in throngs before my mind intrude : Do they occasion; 't is a pleasing chime. So the unnumber'd sounds that evening store; 5 The songs of birds- the whisp'ring of the leaves 10 With solemn sound, - and thousand others more, That distance of recognizance bereaves, Make pleasing music, and not wild uproar. V. KEEN, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry; And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn on high, That in a little cottage I have found; VI. To G. A. W. NYMPH of the downward smile and sidelong glance, Art thou most lovely? When gone far astray Of sober thought? Or when starting away And so remain because thou listenest: That I can never tell what mood is best. I shall as soon pronounce which grace more neatly VII. Solitude. O SOLITUDE! if I must with thee dwell, ΙΟ 5 IO 5 Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep, May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee, VIII. Addressed to Haydon. GREAT spirits now on earth are sojourning; The social smile, the chain for Freedom's sake: A meaner sound than Raphael's whispering. These, these will give the world another heart, Listen awhile ye nations, and be dumb. |