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Book: Empedocles on Etna

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  • Mist clogs the sunshine.
    Smoky dwarf houses
    90 lines, 2 comments
  • In this lone, open glade I lie,
    Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
    44 lines
  • We cannot kindle when we will
    The fire which in the heart resides;
    36 lines, 2 comments
  • Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts,
    Thick breaks the red flame;
    52 lines, 1 comment
  • Weary of myself, and sick of asking
    What I am, and what I ought to be,
    38 lines, 3 comments
  • IS it so small a thing
    To have enjoy'd the sun,
    34 lines
  • Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
    Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet!
    98 lines, 5 comments
  • Far, far from here,
    The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay
    34 lines
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