Love’s Philosophy

The fountains mingle with the riverAnd the rivers with the ocean,The winds of heaven mix for everWith a sweet emotion;Nothing in the world is single,All things by a law divineIn one another's being mingle—Why not I with thine? See the
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Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique landWho said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,Tell that its
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Travelling

This is the spot:—how mildly does the sunShine in between the fading leaves! the airIn the habitual silence of this woodIs more than silent: and this bed of heath,Where shall we find so sweet a resting-place?Come!—let me see thee sink into
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Perfect Woman

She was a phantom of delightWhen first she gleam'd upon my sight;A lovely apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament;Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her drawnFrom May-time
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Modern Love

And what is love? It is a doll dress’d upFor idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle;A thing of soft misnomers, so divineThat silly youth doth think to make itselfDivine by loving, and so goes onYawning and doting a whole summer long,Till
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