Come live with me and be my love:\And we will all the pleasures prove:\{The }Passionate Shepherd{ to his Love}:\{Christopher }MarloweShall I compare thee to a summer's day{?}:\Thou art more lovely and more temperate:\Sonnet 18:\{William }ShakespeareFine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave, and new!:\Good pennyworths{! }but money cannot move:\Fine Knacks{ for Ladies}:\{John }DowlandMy mind to me a kingdom is:\Such perfect joy therein I find:\My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is:\{Sir }{Edward }DyerUnderneath this stone doth lie:\As much beauty as could die:\Epitaph on Elizabeth{,} {L. H.}:\{Ben }JonsonDeath be not proud, though some have called thee:\Mighty and dreadful{,} for thou art not so:\{Holy }Sonnet{s}{ 10}:\{John }DonneGather ye rose-buds while ye may:\Old Time is still a-flying:\To the Virgins{,} {To Make Much of Time}:\{Robert }HerrickWhy so pale and wan, fond lover?:\Prithee{,} why so pale{?}:\Song:\{Sir }{John }SucklingStone walls do not a prison make:\Nor iron bars a cage:\To Althea{,} From Prison:\{Richard }LovelaceI could not love thee (Dear) so much,:\Lov['|e]d I not hono{u}r more:\To Lucasta{, Going to the Wars}:\{Richard }LovelaceI saw Eternity the other night:\Like a great ring of pure and endless light:\{The }World:\{Henry }VaughanCome and trip it as you go,:\On the light fantastic toe:\L'Allegro:\{John }MiltonWhen I consider how my light is spent:\Ere half my days in this dark world and wide:\On His Blindness|When I Consider:\{John }MiltonThe grave's a fine and private place{,}:\But none{,} I think{,} do there embrace{.}:\To His Coy Mistress:\{Andrew }MarvelGreat wits are sure to madness near allied:\And thin partitions do their bounds divide:\Absalom and Achitophel|Absalom:\{John }DrydenA little learning is a dangerous thing{;}:\Drink deep{,} or taste not the Pierian spring{.}:\{An }Essay on Criticism|{On }Criticism:\{Alexander }PopeThe curfew tolls the knell of parting day{,}:\The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea:\Elegy{ Written in a Country Church{-| }Yard:\{Thomas }GrayThe best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley{,}:\An{'|d} lea{'|v}e us nought but grief an{'|d} pain for promised joy{.}:\To a Mouse:\{Robert }BurnsTiger! tiger! burning bright!:\In the forests of the night:\{The }Tiger:\{William }BlakeMy heart leaps up when I behold:\A rainbow in the sky:\My Heart Leaps Up:\{William }WordsworthThe world is too much with us; late and soon{,}:\Getting and spending{,} we lay waste our powers:\{The }World is Too Much With Us|Sonnet:\{William }WordsworthA sadder and a wiser man{,}:\He rose the morrow morn:\{The }{Rime of }{The }Ancient Mariner:\{Samuel }{Taylor }ColeridgeIn Xanadu did Kubla Khan:\A stately pleasure{-| }dome decree:\Kubla Khan:\{Samuel }{Taylor }ColeridgeShe walks in beauty, like the night:\Of cloudless climes and starry skies:\She Walks in Beauty:\{George Gordon, }{Lord }ByronI want a hero- an uncommon want{,}:\When every year and month sends forth a new one:\Don Juan{ Canto I}:\{George Gordon, }{Lord }ByronA thing of beauty is a joy forever.:\Its loveliness increases{;|.} {it will never/Pass into nothingness}:\Endymion{ Book I}:\{John }KeatsMatched with an aged wife, I mete and dole:\Unequal laws unto a savage race:\Ulysses:\{Alfred{,} }{Lord }TennysonHe will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force{,}:\Something better than his dog{,} a little dearer than his horse:\Locksley Hall:\{Alfred{,} }{Lord }Tennyson'Tis better to have loved and lost:\Than never to have loved at all:\{In }Memoriam{ A. H. H.}:\{Alfred{,} }{Lord }TennysonKind hearts are more than coronets,:\And simple faith than Norman blood{.}:\Lady Clara Vere de Vere:\{Alfred{,} }{Lord }TennysonOh, to be in England:\Now that April's there:\Home{-| }Thoughts{,} From Abroad:\{Robert }BrowningAh, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp{,}:\Or what's a heaven for{?}:\Andrea Del Sarto:\{Robert }BrowningHow do I love thee? Let me count the ways.:\I love thee to the depth and breadth and height:\Sonnet{s} {From the Portuguese}{ 43}:\{Elizabeth }{Barrett }BrowningA Book of Verses underneath the Bough{,}:\A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread{-|,| }and Thou:\{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 12}:\{Edward }FitzgeraldThe Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,:\Moves on{\:|,|.} nor all your Piety nor Wit:\{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 71}:\{Edward }FitzgeraldAh Love! could you and I with Him conspire:\To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire:\{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 99}:\{Edward }FitzgeraldRemember me when I am gone away,:\Gone far away into the silent land:\Remember:\{Christina }RossettiHome is the sailor, home from the sea,:\And the hunter home from the hill:\Requiem:\{Robert }{Louis }StevensonI fled Him, down the nights and down the days;:\I fled Him, down the arches of the years:\{The }Hound of Heaven:\{Francis }ThompsonSo 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;:\You're a {pore|poor} benighted {'|h}eathen but a first class fightin{'|g} man:\Fuzzy{-| }Wuzzy:\{Rudyard }KiplingMorns abed and daylight slumber:\Were not meant for man alive:\Reveille:\{A{.}{ }E{.}{ }}HousemanI will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,:\And a small cabin build there{,} of clay and wattles made:\{The }{Lake Isle of }Innisfree:\{William }{Butler }YeatsI must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,:\And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by:\Sea{-| }Fever:\{John }MasefieldApril is the cruelest month, breeding:\Lilacs out of the dead land:\{The }Waste{ }Land:\{T{.}{ }S{.}{ }}EliotNow as I was young and easy under the apple boughs:\About the little house and happy as the grass was green:\Fern Hill:\{Dylan }ThomasOf Man's first disobedience, and the fruit:\Of that forbidden tree{,} whose mortal taste:\Paradise Lost:\{John }Milton