To justify God's ways to man..

With rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipped maiden And many a lightfoot lad..

And malt does more than Milton can to justify God's ways to man..

Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again..

Tell me not here, it needs not saying, What tune the enchantress plays In aftermaths of soft September Or under blanching mays, For she and I were lo….

Lovers lying two and two Ask not whom they sleep beside, And the bridegroom all night through Never turns him to the bride..

Good religious poetry... is likely to be most justly appreciated and most discriminately relished by the undevout..

His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away..

Three minutes thought would suffice to find this out; but thought is irksome and three minutes is a long time..

He would not stay for me, and who can wonder? He would not stay for me to stand and gaze. I shook his hand, and tore my heart in sunder, And went ….

Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink for fellows whom it hurts to think..

Existence is not itself a good thing, that we should spend a lifetime securing its necessaries: a life spent, however victoriously, in securing the n….

But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was bo….

Terence, this is stupid stuff: You eat your victuals fast enough; There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear, To see the rate you drink your beer. But oh,….

Into my hear an air that kills through yon far country blows what are those blue remembered hills what spires,what farms are those? that is the land ….

Oh I have been to Ludlow fair, and left my necktie God knows where. And carried half way home, or near, pints and quarts of Ludlow beer..

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of ….

On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;The wind it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves..

I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made..

That is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, the happy highways where I went and cannot come again..

They say my verse is sad: no wonder; Its narrow measure spans Tears of eternity, and sorrow, Not mine. but man's..