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True !-tender monitors!

I bend unto your laws :
This sweetest day for dalliance was born!

So, without more ado,

I 'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty morn.



It keeps eternal whisperings around

Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell

Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often 'tis in such gentle temper found,

That scarcely will the very smallest shell

Be mov'd for days from whence it sometime fell,
When last the winds of heaven were unbound.
Oh ye ! who have your eye-balls vex'd and tir'd,
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea ;

Oh ye! whose ears are dinn'd with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody,-

ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quir'd !

First given among the Literary Remains in Volume II of the Life, Letters &c. (1848), and dated August 1817.


On Leigh Hunt's Poem The Story of Rimini.

Who loves to peer up at the morning sun,

With half-shut eyes and comfortable cheek,

Let him, with this sweet tale, full often seek
For meadows where the little rivers run;
Who loves to linger with that brightest one

Of Heaven-Hesperus—let him lowly speak

These numbers to the night, and starlight meek,
Or moon, if that her hunting be begun.
He who knows these delights, and too is prone

To moralize upon a smile or tear,
Will find at once a region of his own,

A bower for his spirit, and will steer
To alleys where the fir-tree drops its cone,

Where robins hop, and fallen leaves are sear.

Given in the Literary Remains next to the preceding, and dated




Where's the Poet? show him! show him,
Muses nine! that I may know him !
'Tis the man who with a man

Is an equal, be he King,
Or poorest of the beggar-clan,

Or any other wondrous thing
A man may be 'twixt ape and Plato;

'Tis the man who with a bird,
Wren, or Eagle, finds his way to

All its instincts; he hath heard
The Lion's roaring, and can tell

What his horny throat expresseth,
And to him the Tiger's yell

Comes articulate and presseth
On his ear like mother-tongue.



This is one of a group of undated fragments given at the end of Volume I of the Life, Letters &c. (1848).



And what is love? It is a doll dress'd up
For idleness to cosset, nurse, and dandle ;
A thing of soft misnomers, so divine
That silly youth doth think to make itself
Divine by loving, and so goes on

Yawning and doting a whole summer long,
Till Miss's comb is made a pearl tiara,
And common Wellingtons turn Romeo boots;
Then Cleopatra lives at number seven,
And Antony resides in Brunswick Square.
Fools! if some passions high have warm'd the world,
If Queens and Soldiers have play'd deep for hearts,
It is no reason why such agonies
Should be more common than the growth of weeds.
Fools! make me whole again that weighty pearl 15
The Queen of Egypt melted, and I'll say
That ye may love in spite of beaver hats.


Modern Love follows “Where's the Poet ?” in the group of undated fragments at the end of Volume I of the Life, Letters &c.

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