Childe Harold - Canto IV - Verse 178
#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
High in the midst, surrounded by h… MAGNUS his ample front sublime… Placed on his chair of state, he s… While Sophs and Freshmen tremble… As all around sit wrapt in speechl…
Remember him, whom Passion’s powe… Severely—-deeply—-vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour, When neither fell, though both wer… That yielding breast, that melting…
To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have… Though Beauty long hath there bee… Not in those visions to the heart… Forms which it sighs but to have o…
Unhappy Dives! in an evil hour 'Gainst Nature’s voice seduced to… Once Fortune’s minion, now thou f… Wrath’s vial on thy lofty head bat… In Wit, in Genius, as in Wealth…
[Justum et tenacem propositi virum… The man of firm and noble soul No factious clamours can control; No threat’ning tyrant’s darkling b… Can swerve him from his just inten…
The spell is broke; the charm is f… Thus is it with life’s fitful feve… We madly smile when we should groa… Delirium is our best deceiver. Each lucid interval of thought
Nothing so difficult as a beginnin… In poesy, unless perhaps the end; For oftentimes when Pegasus seems… The race, he sprains a wing, and d… Like Lucifer when hurl’d from hea…
Why, Pigot, complain of this dams… Why thus in despair do you fret? For months you may try, yet, belie… Will never obtain a coquette. Would you teach her to love? for a…
I Read the 'Christabel’; Very well: I read the Missionary’; Pretty - very I tried at Ilderim ;
And thou art dead, as young and fa… As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so ra… Too soon return’d to Earth! Though Earth received them in her…
‘It is the voice of years that are… they roll before me with all their… Newstead! fast-falling, once-respl… Religion’s shrine! repentant HE… Of warriors, monks, and dames the…
‘But if any old lady, knight, prie… Should condemn me for printing a s… If good Madam Squintum my work sh… May I venture to give her a smack… CANDOUR compels me, BECHER!…
Marion! why that pensive brow? What disgust to life hast thou? Change that discontented air; Frowns become not one so fair. 'Tis not love disturbs thy rest,
We sate down and wept by the water… Of Babel, and thought of the day When our foe, in the hue of his sl… Made Salem’s high places his prey… And ye, oh her desolate daughters!
From the last hill that looks on t… I beheld thee, Oh Sion! when rend… 'Twas thy last sun went down, and… Flash’d back on the last glance I… II.