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Ruin is a tale that is not a tale. It is a microscopic peering into the unpleasant fabric of human sustainability. It is a real person wrought by sabotaging the very nature of storytelling. It is a description of love, that is, the deliberate perversion of it in order to fulfill one's needs, which is to say it is the banal record of everyday life. It is a collection of details that follow the details that preceded it in A Book of Nightmares. It is not a happy book. It is full of elegiac contemplation on suffering, helplessness, holiness and unrelenting sexual isolation. It is blunt and graphic and painfully beautiful. It has little plot, and no punctuation, and might, just might, be the poetry for which America has been unconsciously waiting....

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there is only love in its various forms and manifestations and by it we either see or we do not see it has been eight years since my last report I am home again if this house can be said to have been a home to me or rather if it can still so be called many years have scampered in and eaten away at what I remember was a modest structure with a mild economical luster ......

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Epigraph Ruin About the Author About William Ralph Press

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An e-edition of Paradise Lost based on the 1674 and 1667 editions, and Paradise Regained based on its original 1671 edition, both meticulously edited for faithfulness to the originals. Volume 4 in The Reader's Library Series. ISBN: 978-1-932023-46-6. https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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from Book I of Paradise Lost “Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings A mind not to be chang’d by Place or Time. The mind is its own place, and in it self Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be, all but less then he Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free; th’ Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence: (260) Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce To reign is worth ambition though in Hell: Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n. But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, Th’ associates and copartners of our loss Lye thus astonisht on th’ oblivious Pool, And call them not to share with us their part In this unhappy Mansion, or once more With rallied Arms to try what may be yet Regaind in Heav’n, or what more lost in Hell? ”...

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Contents Introduction PARADISE LOST Book I Book II Book III Book IV Book V Book VI Book VII Book VIII Book IX Book X Book XI Book XII PARADISE REGAIN'D Book I Book II Book III Book IV About the Editor Also from William Ralph Press...

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The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth collects the entirety of Wordsworth's verse, presenting it more or less chronologically and, as carefully as possible, the way was intended to be heard by the author, complete with the variety of word emphases that have been either represented by scare quotes or italics....

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“The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.”...

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A complete collection of the poems and poetic fragments of the great English language stylist and Jesuit priest, Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889). Volume 3 of The Reader's Library Series. ISBN: 978-1-932023-45-9. https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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Spring and Fall to a young child   Márgarét, áre you gríeving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leáves, líke the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Áh! ás the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for....

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Contents Introduction Author’s Preface The Wreck of the Deutschland Penmaen Pool The Silver Jubilee God’s Grandeur The Starlight Night Spring The Lantern out of Doors The Sea and the Skylark The Windhover Pied Beauty Hurrahing in Harvest The Caged Skylark In the Valley of the Elwy The Loss of the Eurydice The May Magnificat Binsey Poplars Duns Scotus’s Oxford Henry Purcell Peace The Bugler’s First Communion Morning Midday and Evening Sacrifice Andromeda The Candle Indoors The Handsome Heart At the Wedding March Felix Randal Brothers Spring and Fall Inversnaid "As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame" Ribblesdale The Leaden Echo and the Golden Echo The Blessed Virgin Compared to the Air We Breathe To What Serves Mortal Beauty? Spelt from Sibyl’s Leaves (The Soldier) (Carrion Comfort) "No Worst There Is None Pitched Past Pitch of Grief" "To Seem the Stranger Lies My Lot My Life" "I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark Not Day" "Patience Hard Thing the Hard Thing But to Pray" "My Own Heart Let Me More Have Pity on Let" Tom’s Garland Harry Ploughman That Nature Is a Heraclitean Fi...

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A thoroughly representative selection of the poetry of John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester. Rochester (1647–1680) was among the worst (best?) of the Restoration rakes, and also one of the period’s best satirists employing a direct language rife with plenty of four-letter words and an obsessive indulgence of the most vulgar vernacular used on behalf of satirical shredding, scatological humor, and sexual candor. Volume 7 in The Reader's Library Series. ISBN: 978-1-932023-49-7 https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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A Rodomontade on His Cruel Mistress Trust not that thing called woman: she is worse Than all ingredients crammed into a curse. Were she but ugly, peevish, proud, a whore, Poxed, painted, perjured, so she were no more, I could forgive her, and connive at this, Alleging still she but a woman is. But she is worse: in time she will forestall The Devil, and be the damning of us all....

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Contents Introduction A Pastoral Dialogue between Alexis and Strephon A Dialogue between Strephon and Daphne Song (Give Me Leave to Rail at You...) Song (Insulting Beauty, You Misspend...) Song (My Dear Mistress Has a Heart...) Woman's Honour (A Song) Song (To This Moment a Rebel...) Written in a Lady's Prayer Book The Discovery The Advice Under King Charles II's Picture The Platonic Lady Song (Phillis, Be Gentler, I Advise...) Epistle To Love The Imperfect Enjoyment A Ramble in St. James's Park On the Women about Town Song (Quoth the Duchess of Cleveland...) Song (Love a Woman? You’re an Ass!...) Upon His Drinking Bowl Grecian Kindness Signior Dildo A Satire on Charles II Tunbridge Wells Upon His Leaving His Mistress Against Constancy To a Lady, in a Letter Song (Leave This Gaudy Gilded Stage...) The Fall The Mistress (A Song) Song (Absent from Thee I Languish Still...) A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover Song (All My Past Life Is Mine No More...) A Satire against Reason and Mankind A Letter from Artemesia in the Town to Chloe in the Country The Disabled Debauchee Upon Nothing A...

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A complete collection of the poetry of Edgar Allan Poe. Poe was born on January 19th in Boston, Massachusetts in 1809, and died in his adopted home of Baltimore, Maryland on October 7th, 1849, making him the first American writer in this series. The critical estimation of Poe’s work has increased dramatically over the course of my lifetime, which has been satisfying to observe, as he was for me—as I believe for so many lovers of literature—an early favorite, particularly because of his verse, which is rich with sonic texture and gothic subject matter: insanity, darkness, ghosts, death, etc. It is also quite manageable to read in its entirety at 75 poems depending on how many of those of questionable authorship or in various stages of completion one is willing to include in the official oeuvre. (In fact, it has been some time since I’ve heard the old familiar slight that his popularity in France during the 19th century was perhaps due to his writing gaining something of substance from Charles Baudelaire’s translations.) While perhaps not quite as dramatically prescient in new utterance, form or philosophical depth as Walt Whitman ...

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Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago,     In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know     By the name of Annabel Lee;— And this maiden she lived with no other thought     Than to love and be loved by me. She was a child and I was a child,     In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love—     I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingéd seraphs of Heaven     Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago,     In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud by night     Chilling my Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came     And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre     In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,     Went envying her and me:— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,     In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling     And killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love     Of those who were older than we—     Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above,     Nor the de...

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Contents Introduction Poetry Oh, Tempora! Oh, Mores! To Margaret To Octavia Tamerlane Song (I Saw Thee on Thy Bridal Day...) Dreams Spirits of the Dead Evening Star Imitation Stanzas (In Youth I Have Known One...) A Dream "The Happiest Day—The Happiest Hour" The Lake: To——— To——— (I Heed Not That My Earthly Lot...) Hymn to Aristogeiton and Harmodius Sonnet: To Science Al Aaraaf Romance To——— (Should My Early Life Seem...) To——— (The Bowers Whereat, in Dreams, I See...) To the River——— Fairy Land Alone To Isaac Lea Elizabeth Acrostic Lines on Joe Locke Introduction Fairy Land II To Helen (Helen, Thy Beauty Is to Me...) Israfel The Sleeper The Valley of Unrest The City in the Sea A Pæn To One in Paradise Hymn An Enigma Serenade To——— (Sleep On, Sleep On, Another Hour...) The Coliseum Fanny To Frances S. Osgood To F——— To Mary May Queen Ode Bridal Ballad Sonnet: To Zante The Haunted Palace Sonnet: Silence The Conqueror Worm Lenore Dream-Land Impromptu: To Kate Carol Eulalie Epigram for Wall Street The Raven To——— (I Would Not Lord It O’er Thy Heart...) The Divine Right ...

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A complete and unabridged e-edition of the collected verse of John Donne. Donne, 1572–1631, was born in London, England, and, as evidenced by the verse collected here, is one of the great English language poets and thinkers in modern history illuminating the human condition through a verse marked for its argument, metaphysical conceit, metaphorical illuminations, and deep passions, whether they be focussed on love, God (two of Donne's favorite foci), or some other theme. While his poetry is dense, it is also inspiring, wise, and an essential and vital piece in the evolution of western verse. Volume 6 in The Reader's Library Series. ISBN: 978-1-932023-48-0 https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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"Batter my heart, three person’d God..." Batter my heart, three person’d God; for, you As yet but knock, breath, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’rthrow me,’and bend Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurpt Town, to another due, Labour to admit you, but oh, to no end. Reason your Viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue, Yet dearly’I love you and would be lov’d fain, But am betroth’d unto your enemy, Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I Except you’enthral me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me....

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Contents Introduction SONGS AND SONNETS The Flea The Good-Morrow Song ("Goe, and catch a falling starre...") Woman's Constancy The Undertaking The Sun Rising The Indifferent Love's Usury Canonization The Triple Fool Lovers' Infiniteness Song ("Sweetest Love, I doe not goe...") The Legacy A Feaver Air and Angels Breake of Day The Anniversary A Valediction of My Name, in the Window Twicknam Garden Valediction to His Book Community Love's Growth Love's Exchange Confined Love The Dream A Valediction of Weeping Love's Alchymy The Curse The Message A Nocturnal upon St. Lucie's Day Being the Shortest Day Witchcraft by a Picture The Bait The Apparition The Broken Heart A Valediction Forbidding Mourning The Extasie Love's Deity Love's Diet The Will The Funeral The Blossom The Primrose, Being at Mountgomery Castle upon the Hill, on Which It Is Situate The Relique The Damp The Dissolution A Jeat Ring Sent Negative Love The Prohibition The Expiration The Computation The Paradox Farewell to Love A Lecture upon the Shadow EPIGRAMS Epigrams ELEGIES Elegie I Elegie II Elegie III El...

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A new edition of the sonnets of William Shakespeare complete and unabridged. ISBN: 978-1-932023-43-5. https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions

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138: When My Love Swears That She Is Made of Truth When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutored youth, Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed. But wherefore says she not she is unjust? And wherefore say not I that I am old? O love’s best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told. Therefore I lie with her and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flattered be....

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By Way of Introduction 1: From Fairest Creatures We Desire Increase 2: When Forty Winters Shall Besiege Thy Brow 3: Look in Thy Glass and Tell the Face Thou Viewest 4: Unthrifty Loveliness Why Dost Thou Spend 5: Those Hours That with Gentle Work Did Frame 6: Then Let Not Winter's Ragged Hand Deface 7: Lo in the Orient When the Gracious Light 8: Music to Hear Why Hear'st Thou Music Sadly 9: Is It For Fear to Wet a Widow's Eye 10: For Shame Deny That Thou Bear'st Love to Any 11: As Fast As Thou Shalt Wane So Fast Thou Growest 12: When I Do Count the Clock That Tells the Time 13: O That You Were Yourself But Love You Are 14: Not from the Stars Do I My Judgment Pluck 15: When I Consider Every Thing That Grows 16: But Wherefore Do Not You a Mightier Way 17: Who Will Believe My Verse in Time to Come 18: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day 19: Devouring Time Blunt Thou the Lion's Paws 20: A Woman's Face with Nature's Own Hand Painted 21: So Is It Not with Me As with That Muse 22: My Glass Shall Not Persuade Me I Am Old 23: As an Unperfect Actor on the Stage 24: Mine Eye Hath Play'd the Painter and hath Stelled 2...

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A complete collection of the poems of William Blake. Blake (1757-1827) was an English poet, engraver, and painter. Early in his life, his unique and deceptively simple poems marked the beginning of Romanticism, particularly those from his volumes Songs of Innocence (1789) and Songs of Experience (1794). Later work evolved into long mythological pieces informed by visions Blake claimed to have throughout his life. This volume collects all his poetic output, including those unfinished fragments in manuscript form....

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The Tyger Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?   In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes! On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?   And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?   What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp?   When the stars threw down their spears And water’d heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?   Tyger, Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?...

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Introduction POETICAL SKETCHES To Spring To Summer To Autumn To Winter To the Evening Star To Morning Fair Elenor Song (How sweet I roam'd...) Song (My silks and fine array...) Song (Love and harmony combine...) Song (I love the jocund dance...) Song (Memory, hither come...) Mad Song Song (Fresh from the dewy hill...) Song (When early morn walks forth...) To the Muses Gwin, King of Norway An Imitation of Spenser Blind Man’s Buff King Edward the Third Prologue, Intended for a Dramatic Piece of King Edward the Fourth Prologue to King John A War Song to Englishmen The Couch of Death Contemplation Samson Song 1st by a Young Shepherd Song 2nd by a Young Shepherd Song by an Old Shepherd AN ISLAND IN THE MOON SONG OF INNOCENCE AND EXPERIENCE Songs of Innocence: Introduction The Shepherd The Ecchoing Green The Lamb The Little Black Boy The Blossom The Chimney Sweeper The Little Boy Lost The Little Boy Found Laughing Song A Cradle Song The Divine Image Holy Thursday Night Spring Nurse’s Song Infant Joy A Dream On Anothers Sorrow Songs of Experience: Introduction Earth’s Answer The Clod & ...

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Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) was worn in Edinburgh, Scotland, and suffered from frail health all through childhood, an affliction that would follow him into adulthood and manifest itself ultimately as tuberculosis. He initially set out to be a lawyer and was admitted to the bar in 1875, though he never practiced. He is best known for his tales Treasure Island and The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, though he wrote a number of other stories, excellent essays, and of course poems. Constantly searching for a climate that would ease his suffering, he died quite young at the age of 44 and was buried high on Mt. Vaea in his final home of Samoa, the site of which is immortalized in the poem “Requiem” contained within these pages. I was first introduced to his timeless A Child’s Garden of Verses by my mother as a child myself, and the simple, extremely perceptive moments beautifully rendered in Stevenson’s effortless cadences and perfect rhymes went a long way, I imagine, to making me believe from an early age that poetry was the best way to explain and discover everything, and subsequently made me want to be a poet mys...

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The Land of Nod From breakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I stay, But every night I go abroad Afar into the land of Nod.   All by myself I have to go, With none to tell me what to do— All alone beside the streams And up the mountain-sides of dreams.   The strangest things are there for me, Both things to eat and things to see, And many frightening sights abroad Till morning in the land of Nod.   Try as I like to find the way, I never can get back by day, Nor can remember plain and clear The curious music that I hear....

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“Introduction A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES To Alison Cunningham Bed in Summer A Thought At the Seaside Young Night Thought Whole Duty of Children Rain Pirate Story Foreign Lands Windy Nights Travel Singing Looking Forward A Good Play Where Go the Boats? Auntie’s Skirts The Land of Counterpane The Land of Nod My Shadow System A Good Boy Escape at Bedtime Marching Song The Cow Happy Thought The Wind Keepsake Mill Good and Bad Children Foreign Children The Sun’s Travels The Lamplighter My Bed Is a Boat The Moon The Swing Time to Rise Looking-Glass River Fairy Bread From a Railway Carriage Winter-Time The Hayloft Farewell to the Farm Northwest Passage I. Good Night II. Shadow March III. In Port The Child Alone 1. The Unseen Playmate 2. My Ship and I 3. My Kingdom 4. Picture-Books in Winter 5. My Treasures 6. Block City 7. The Land of Story-Books 8. Armies in the Fire 9. The Little Land Garden Days 1. Night and Day 2. Nest Eggs 3. The Flowers 4. Summer Sun 5. The Dumb Soldier 6. Autumn Fires 7. The Gardener 8. Historical Associations Envoys 1. To Willie and Henrietta 2. To...

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A selection of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's essential poems. Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834) was an English poet, critic, and philosopher. His Lyrical Ballads, published in 1798 with co-author William Wordsworth, marked the beginning for all intents and purposes of English Romanticism and included “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” Other notable poems include "This Lime-Tree Bower My Prison," “Christabel” and “Kubla Khan.” Volume 2 in The Reader's Library Series, ISBN: 978-1-932023-44-2. https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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Kubla Khan Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.   In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round; And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then rea...

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Contents Introduction Sonnet: To the Autumnal Moon A Mathematical Problem To the Rev. George Coleridge I II III IV Sonnet: On Quitting School for College Sonnet: To the River Otter On a Discovery Made Too Late The Eolian Harp Lines in the Manner of Spenser Reflections on Having Left a Place of Retirement Sonnet: Composed on a Journey Homeward; the Author Having Received Intelligence of the Birth of a Son, Sept. 20, 1796 Sonnet: On Receiving a Letter Informing Me of the Birth of a Son Sonnet: To A Friend Who Asked How I Felt When the Nurse First Presented My Infant to Me This Lime-Tree Bower My Prison The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Argument Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Fire, Famine, and Slaughter A War Eclogue Frost at Midnight Kubla Khan Fears in Solitude The Nightingale The Wanderings of Cain Prefatory Note The Wanderings of Cain The Devil's Thoughts I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII Christabel Preface Part I Part II Dejection: An Ode [Written April 4, 1802] I II III IV V VI VII VIII The Language of Birds T...

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Walt Whitman (1819-1892) is widely considered to be the greatest and most influential of all American poets. The first edition of LEAVES OF GRASS, his sole book which he would continue to revise over the course of his life expanding and rewriting it until the year of his death, appeared in 1855. This volume endeavors to recreate that debut edition as much as an e-book’s virtual typesetting will allow....

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I celebrate myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.   I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease . . . . observing a spear of summer grass.   Houses and rooms are full of perfumes . . . . the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.   The atmosphere is not a perfume . . . . it has no taste of the distillation . . . . it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever . . . . I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me.   The smoke of my own breath, Echos, ripples, and buzzed whispers . . . . loveroot, silkthread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration . . . . the beating of my heart . . . . the passing of blood and air through my lungs, “The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and darkcolored sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn, The sound of the belched words of my voice . . . . words loosed to the eddies of the wind, A fe...

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Contents Introduction "Frontispiece" "Letter from Ralph Waldo Emerson" "Original Title Page" "Entered according to Act of Congress..." "Preface" "Song of Myself" "A Song for Occupations" "To Think of Time" "The Sleepers" "I Sing the Body Electric" "Faces" "Song of the Answerer" "Europe the 72d and 73d Years of These States" "A Boston Ballad" "There Was a Child Went Forth" "Who Learns My Lesson Complete" "Great Are the Myths" About the Editor Also by William Ralph Press...

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A meticulously edited edition of John Keats’ verse collecting all of his poems sans his two long verse plays. Keats was born in London, England, on October 31, 1795. He dedicated his short life to the creation of poetry characterized by its sensuous and vivid imagery, classical themes, technical mastery and sincere and authentic emotional tenor. He died tragically young in 1821 of tuberculosis, a disease that had plagued his life since he took a walking tour of the Lake District in 1818. Volume 5 in The Reader's Library Series. ISBN: 978-1-932023-47-3 https://www.facebook.com/williamralpheditions...

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Ode to a Nightingale I My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains     My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains     One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,     But being too happy in thine happiness,—         That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,             In some melodious plot     Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,         Singest of summer in full-throated ease.   II O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been     Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green,     Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South,     Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,         With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,             And purple-stained mouth;     That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,         And with thee fade away into the forest dim:   III Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget     What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret     Here, where men sit and hear each ...

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Contents Introduction Imitation of Spencer On Peace On Death Lines Written on 29 May, the Anniversary of Charles’ Restoration, on Hearing Bells Ringing Song: Stay, Ruby Breasted Warbler, Stay Fill for Me a Brimming Bowl As from the Darkening Gloom a Silver Dove To Lord Byron To Chatterton Written on the Day that Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison To Hope Ode to Apollo To Some Ladies On Receiving a Curious Shell, and a Copy of Verses, from the Same Ladies To Emma Woman! When I Behold Thee Flippant, Vain Sonnet to Solitude Epistle to George Felton Mathew To —— (Had I a Man's Fair Form...) To —— (Hadst Thou Liv'd in Days of Old...) I Am As Brisk Women, Wine, and Snuff Specimen of an Induction to a Poem Calidore To One Who Has Been Long in City Pent Oh! How I Love, on a Fair Summer's Eve To a Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses Happy Is England! I Could Be Content To My Brother George Epistle to My Brother George Epistle to Charles Cowden Clarke How Many Bards Gild the Lapses of Time! On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer Keen, Fitful Gusts Are Whisp’ring Here and There On Leaving Some Friends at an Early Hou...

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Alexander Pope (1688-1744) is widely considered to be the best poet of the Augustan age, and perhaps English verse’s best satirist ever. Pope was mostly self-taught having been denied a formal protestant education because of his family’s Roman Catholic beliefs; he also suffered from the effects of Pott’s disease his entire life, which left him deformed and of small stature never growing past the height of four feet six inches. Despite these challenges, Pope flourished in English society and was likely its first professional literary writer having garnered significant income from the sales of books to the public as opposed to traditional patronages, capitalizing mostly on his excellent translations of Homer and an edited edition of Shakespeare. A close friend of Jonathan Swift in their famous Scriblerus Club, he was quite famous in his time, and while his reputation declined in the 19th century, he is now considered the most canonical poet of his era and the true master of the heroic couplet (followed closely by his predecessor, John Dryden) and English poetic satire. This edition of his poems collects all of his major work, and most...

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from "Essay on Criticism" “Tis hard to say if greater want of skill Appear in writing or in judging ill; But of the two less dangerous is th’ offence To tire our patience than mislead our sense: Some few in that, but numbers err in this; Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss; A fool might once himself alone expose; Now one in verse makes many more in prose.     ’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own. In Poets as true Genius is but rare, True Taste as seldom is the Critic’s share; Both must alike from Heav’n derive their light, These born to judge, as well as those to write. Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well; Authors are partial to their wit, ’tis true, But are not Critics to their judgment too? “    Yet if we look more closely, we shall find Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind: Nature affords at least a glimm’ring light; The lines, tho’ touch’d but faintly, are drawn right: But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced, Is by ill col’ring but the more disgraced, So by false learning is good sens...

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Introduction Ode on Solitude A Paraphrase (On Thomas à Kempis) To the Author of a Poem Entitled Successio The First Book of Statius’s Thebais Imitation of Chaucer Imitation of Spenser: The Alley Imitation of Waller: On a Lady Singing to Her Lute Imitation of Waller: On a Fan of the Author’s Design Imitation of Abraham Cowley: The Garden Imitation of Abraham Cowley: Weeping Imitation of Earl of Rochester: On Silence Imitation of Earl of Dorset: Artemisia Imitation of Earl of Dorset: Phryne Imitation of Dr. Swift: The Happy Life of a Country Parson Pastorals I. Spring; or, Damon II. Summer; or, Alexis III. Autumn; or, Hylas and Ægon IV. Winter; or, Daphne Windsor Forest Paraphrases from Chaucer January and May; or, The Merchant’s Tale The Wife of Bath The Temple of Fame Translations from Ovid Sappho to Phaon The Fable of Dryope Vertumnus and Pomona An Essay on Criticism Part I Part II Part III Ode for Music on St. Cecilia’s Day Argus The Balance of Europe The Translator On Mrs. Tofts, a Famous Opera-Singer Epistle to Mrs. Blount, with the Works of Voiture Adriani Morientis Ad Animam Epistle to M...

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Walt Whitman (1819-1892) is widely considered to be the greatest and most influential of all American poets. LEAVES OF GRASS, Whitman's sole book published at his own expense, represents almost the entirety of his poetical output. The first edition of LEAVES OF GRASS, which he would continue to revise over the course of his life expanding and rewriting it until the year of his death, appeared in 1855. This volume represents the final edition, commonly referred to as the “deathbed” edition, and comes with a prefatory note from Whitman asserting that this is the version he most considered full and complete. While it was a commercial and critical failure during Whitman’s lifetime, LEAVES OF GRASS has gone on to become one of the most canonical books of poetry ever written, influencing and inspiring countless artists in the last two centuries. Written in a groundbreaking prosodic style Whitman referred to as “free verse” LEAVES OF GRASS takes the individual and a young American democracy as its themes and illustrates them with a long-lined cadence Whitman coined his “barbaric yawp” along with all the details that constitute them, a few ...

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O Captain! My Captain! O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;                     But O heart! heart! heart!                          O the bleeding drops of red,                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,                                    Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;                     Here Captain! dear father!                          This arm beneath your head!                               It is some dream that on the deck,                                    You’ve fallen cold and dead.   My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed...

Table of Contents Details
Contents Introduction LEAVES OF GRASS INSCRIPTIONS One's-Self I Sing As I Ponder'd in Silence In Cabin'd Ships at Sea To Foriegn Lands To a Historian To Thee Old Cause Eidólons For Him I Sing When I Read the Book Beginning My Studies Beginners To the States On Journeys through the States To a Certain Cantatrice Me Imperturbe Savantism The Ship Starting I Hear America Singing What Place Is Besieged Still though the One I Sing Shut Not Your Doors Poets to Come To You Thou Reader STARTING FROM PAUMANOK SONG OF MYSELF CHILDREN OF ADAM To the Garden the World From Pent-Up Aching Rivers I Sing the Body Electric A Woman Waits for Me Spontaneous Me One Hour to Madness and Joy Out of the Rolling Ocean the Crowd Ages and Ages Returning at Intervals We Two, How Long We Were Fool'd O Hymen! O Hymenee! I Am He that Aches with Love Native Moments Once I Pass'd through a Populous City I Heard You Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ Facing West from California's Shores As Adam Early in the Morning CALAMUS In Paths Untrodden Scented Herbage of My Breast Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand For Y...