#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Thou Power! who hast ruled me thr… Young offspring of Fancy, 'tis ti… Then rise on the gale this the las… The coldest effusion which springs… This bosom, responsive to rapture…
What matter the pangs of a husband… If his sorrows in exile be great o… So the Pharisee’s glories around… And the saint patronizes her ‘char… What matters—a heart which, though…
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left J… Pillow’d upon a fair and happy bre… And watch’d by eyes that never yet… And loved by a young heart, too de… To feel the poison through her spi…
Thy cheek is pale with thought, bu… And yet so lovely, that if Mirth… Its rose of whiteness with the bri… My heart would wish away that rude… And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes—…
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Posterity will ne’er survey A nobler grave than this: Here lie the bones of Castlereagh… Stop, traveler—
Near this spot Are deposited the Remains Of one Who possessed Beauty Without Vanity,
Hush’d are the winds, and still th… Not e’en a zephyr wanders through… Whilst I return, to view my Marga… And scatter flowers on the dust I… Within this narrow cell reclines h…
Weep, daughter of a royal line, A Sire’s disgrace, a realm’s deca… Ah! happy if each tear of thine Could wash a father’s fault away! Weep—for thy tears are Virtue’s t…
When amatory poets sing their love… In liquid lines mellifluously blan… And pair their rhymes as Venus yo… They little think what mischief is… The greater their success the wors…
If, in the month of dark December… Leander, who was nightly wont (What maid will not the tale remem… To cross thy stream, broad Helles… If, when the wintry tempest roar’d…
Written Under The Impression Tha… Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy Spread roses o’er my brow; Where Science seeks each loiterin… With knowledge to endow.
His classic studies made a little… Because of filthy loves of gods an… Who in the earlier ages raised a b… But never put on pantaloons or bod… His reverend tutors had at times a…
Dear Doctor, I have read your pla… Which is a good one in its way, Purges the eyes, and moves the bow… And drenches handkerchiefs like to… With tears that, in a flux of grie…
With death doom’d to grapple, Beneath this cold slab, he Who lied in the Chapel Now lies in the Abbey.
