Poetry by the Line I

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Can you name the Poet by the Line?

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The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night,
Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink.
I wandered lonely as a cloud, That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils,
She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily
If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master; If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;
I'm nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too?
Double, Double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
And does it not seem hard to you, When all the sky is clear and blue, And I should like so much to play, To have to go to bed by day?
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by,

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