- Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering?70 lines, 5 comments - No, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;35 lines - O soft embalmer of the still midnight!
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,13 lines, 1 comment - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;37 lines, 10 comments
