KEATS
He dwelt with the bright gods of elder time,
On earth and in their cloudy haunts above.
He loved them: and in recompense sublime,
The gods, alas! gave him their fatal love.
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AFTER READING "TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT"
Your Marlowe's page I close, my Shakspere's ope.
How welcome—after gong and cymbal's din—
The continuity, the long slow slope
And vast curves of the gradual violin!
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SHELLEY AND HARRIET WESTBROOK
A star look'd down from heaven and loved a flower
Grown in earth's garden—loved it for an hour:
Let eyes that trace his orbit in the spheres
Refuse not, to a ruin'd rosebud, tears.
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