#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Art thou indeed forever gone, Forever, ever, lost to me? Must this poor bosom beat alone, Or beat at all, if not for thee? Ah! why was love to mortals given,
Guido, I would that Lapo, thou, a… Led by some strong enchantment, mi… A magic ship, whose charmed sails… With winds at will where’er our th… So that no change, nor any evil ch…
From the Greek. A man who was about to hang himsel… Finding a purse, then threw away h… The owner, coming to reclaim his p… The halter found; and used it. So…
And like a dying lady, lean and pa… Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a ga… Out of her chamber, led by the ins… And feeble wanderings of her fadin… The moon arose up in the murky Ea…
Oh! did you observe the Black Can… And did you observe his frown? He goeth to say the midnight mass, In holy St. Edmond’s town. He goeth to sing the burial chaunt…
Ye hasten to the grave! What seek… Ye restless thoughts and busy purp… Of the idle brain, which the world… O thou quick heart, which pantest… All that pale Expectation feignet…
The pale, the cold, and the moony… Which the meteor beam of a starles… Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isl… Ere the dawning of morn’s undoubte… Is the flame of life so fickle and…
Oh! take the pure gem to where sou… Waft repose to some bosom as faith… In which the warm current of love… As it rises unmingled with selfish… Which, untainted by pride, unpollu…
Earth, ocean, air, belovèd brother… If our great Mother has imbued my… With aught of natural piety to fee… Your love, and recompense the boon… If dewy morn, and odorous noon, an…
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save…
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets’ food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they,
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is il… Which severs those it should unite… Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night goo…
'Thus do the generations of the ea… Go to the grave and issue from the… Surviving still the imperishable c… That renovates the world; even as… Which the keen frost-wind of the w…
No trump tells thy virtues’the g… With thy dust shall remain unpollu… Till thy foes, by the world and by… Shall pass like a mist from the li… VII.
An old, mad, blind, despised, and… Princes, the dregs of their dull r… Through public scorn,—mud from a m… Rulers who neither see, nor feel,… But leech-like to their fainting c…
