ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER Much have I travelled in the realms of gold, That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne: Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: He stared at the Pacific-and all his men John Keats A GARLAND OF GOLD "UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE" Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me, Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun, And loves to live i̇' the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleased with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. William Shakespeare "BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND” Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly; Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly! Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, As friend remembered not. Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly; Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly! William Shakespeare "I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD" I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hi A host, of golden daffodils; Continuous as the stars that shine Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they In such a jocund company: I gazed and gazed-but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie And then my heart with pleasure fills, William Wordsworth "THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US" The world is too much with us; late and soon, We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! William Wordsworth THE RAINBOW My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, The Child is father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. William Wordsworth "THE SPACIOUS FIRMAMENT ON HIGH" The spacious firmament on high, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied Sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display; And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The Moon takes up the wondrous tale; Repeats the story of her birth: Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all |