#English #XIXCentury
A lake and a fairy boat To sail in the moonlight clear, - And merrily we would float From the dragons that watch us her… Thy gown should be snow-white silk
I Saw old Autumn in the misty mor… Stand shadowless like Silence, li… To silence, for no lonely bird wou… Into his hollow ear from woods for… Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn…
Is there a bitter pang for love re… O God! The dead love doth not cos… Than the alive, the loving, the be… Not yet, not yet beyond all hopes… Would I were laid
‘Oh where, and oh where Is my bonny laddie gone?’ _Old Song_. One day, as I was going by That part of Holborn christened H…
Love thy mother, little one! Kiss and clasp her neck again,— Hereafter she may have a son Will kiss and clasp her neck in va… Love thy mother, little one!
Silence There is a silence where hath been… There is a silence where no sound… In the cold grave—under the deep,… Or in wide desert where no life is…
And has the earth lost its so spac… The sky its blue circumference abo… That in this little chamber there… Both earth and heaven—my universe… All that my God can give me, or r…
Full of drink and full of meat, On our SAVIOUR’S natal day, CHARITY’S perennial treat; Thus I heard a Pauper say:— ‘Ought not I to dance and sing
The Autumn is old, The sere leaves are flying;— He hath gather’d up gold, And now he is dying;— Old Age, begin sighing!
A poor old king, with sorrow for m… Throned upon straw, and mantled wi… For pity, my own tears have made m… That I might never see my childre… And, may be, madness, like a frien…
Summer is gone on swallows’ wings, And Earth has buried all her flow… No more the lark,—the linnet—sings… But Silence sits in faded bowers. There is a shadow on the plain
‘O breathe not his name!’ —Moore. Thou Great Unknown! I do not mean Eternity, nor Death… That vast incog!
Most delicate Ariel! submissive t… Won by the mind’s high magic to it… Invisible embassy, or secret guest… Weighing the light air on a lighte… Whether into the midnight moon, to…
‘On the east coast, towards Tunis, the Moors still preserve the key of their ancestors’ houses in Spain; to which country they still express the hopes of one day returning and again pla...
It is not death, that sometime in… This eloquent breath shall take it… That sometime these bright stars,… In sunlight to the sun, shall set… That this warm conscious flesh sha…