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Edmund Spenser (1552?-1599) was an English Renaissance poet often considered to be the foremost poet of his time by many of his contemporaries. His early career, much like Virgil's, was spent writing pastoral and elegiac verse, but The Faerie Queene is his masterpiece, an unfinished allegorical epic intended to depict Aristotle's twelve moral virtues (twelve also being the number of books subsequently divided into twelve cantos for a proper epic), though he was only able to finish six. The poem is written entirely in what has come to be known as the Spenserian stanza: nine lines, eight of iambic pentameter followed by one of iambic hexameter rhyming ababbcbcc. The fairy queen, Gloriana, represents the glory of heaven and Queen Elizabeth I simultaneously. She is holding her twelve-day feast, each day of which the adventures in the twelve books were to take place, though in keeping with the epic tradition the first book does not begin at the beginning of the first day, but in medias res with the Red Cross Knight already on his adventure. Subsequently each book is meant to portray—in the embodiment of its corresponding knight—one of th...

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I Lo! I the man, whose Muse whylome did maske, As time her taught, in lowly shephards weeds, Am now enforst, a farre unfitter taske, For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine oaten reeds, And sing of knights and ladies gentle deeds; Whose praises having slept in silence long, Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds To blazon broade emongst her learned throng: Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song. II Helpe then, O holy virgin, chiefe of nyne, Thy weaker novice to performe thy will; Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still, Of Faerie knights, and fayrest Tanaquill, Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill, That I must rue his undeserved wrong: O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong. III And thou, most dreaded impe of highest Jove. Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart At that good knight so cunningly didst rove, That glorious fire it kindled in his hart, Lay now thy deadly heben bowe apart, And with thy mother mylde come to mine ayde: Come both, and with you bring tri...

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Introduction THE FAERIE QUEENE Commendatory Verses Dedicatory Sonnets Book I: The Legend of the Knight of the Red Crosse Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book II: The Legend of Sir Guyon Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book III: The Legend of Britomartis Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book IV: The Legend of Cambel and Triamond Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book V: The Legend of Artegall Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book VI: The Legend of Sir Calidore Canto I Canto II Canto III Canto IV Canto V Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII Canto IX Canto X Canto XI Canto XII Book VII: Two Cantos of Mutabilitie Canto VI Canto VII Canto VIII About the Editor Also from William Ra...

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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 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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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...