For they of Athens & Jerusalem Were neither mid the mighty captives seen

The chariot rolled a captive multitude Was driven; althose who had grown old in power

Under the self same bough, & heard as there The birds, the fountains. . . .my brain was rolled.

Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The

Tyger ! Tyger ! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye

No familiar shapes Of hourly objects, images of trees... By day and were the trouble of my dreams.

All humane things are subject to decay; And, when Fate summons, Monarchs must obey

Fair Quiet, have I found thee here; And Innocence, thy sister dear ! Mistaken long, I sought you t

The Grave's a fine and private place; But none, I think, do there embrace.