Two consecutive lines of a poem, usually of the same length, that rhyme.

The Blue Guitar

I do my best to tell it true

a thing exceeding hard to do

or tell it slant as Emily

January, 1795

Pavement slipp’ry, people sneezing,

Lords in ermine, beggars freezing;

Titled gluttons dainties carving,

The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd

If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue,

These pretty pleasures might me move,


From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were — I have not seen

As others saw — I could not bring


What on Earth deserves our trust?

Youth and Beauty both are dust.

Long we gathering are with pain,

A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow —

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough and time,

This coyness, lady, were no crime.

We would sit down, and think which way

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,


A thin wet sky, that yellows at the rim,

And meets with sun-lost lip the marsh’s brim.

The pools low lying, dank with moss and mould,