#EnglishWriters #Romantic
When Man, expell’d from Eden’s bo… A moment linger’d near the gate, Each scene recall’d the vanish’d h… And bade him curse his future fate… But, wandering on through distant…
O Love! O Glory! what are ye who… Around us ever, rarely to alight? There’s not a meteor in the polar… Of such transcendent and more flee… Chill, and chain’d to cold earth,…
Let Folly smile, to view the name… Of thee and me in friendship twine… Yet Virtue will have greater clai… To love, than rank with vice combi… And though unequal is thy fate,
Francisca walks in the shadow of n… But it is not to gaze on the heave… But if she sits in her garden bowe… 'Tis not for the sake of its blowi… She listens– but not for the night…
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cav… Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wav… The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride,
My dear Mr. Murray, You’re in a damn 'd hurry, To set up this ultimate Canto; But (if they don’t rob us) You’ll see Mr. Hobhouse
WRITTEN IN 'LETTERS O… ‘Away, away, your fleeting arts May now betray some simpler hearts… And you will smile at their believ… And they shall weep at your deceiv…
I now mean to be serious;—it is ti… Since laughter now-a-days is deem’… A jest at Vice by Virtue’s call’d… And critically held as deleterious… Besides, the sad’s a source of the…
Born in the garret, in the kitchen… Promoted thence to deck her mistre… Next for some gracious service une… And from its wages only to be gues… Raised from the toilette to the ta…
The King was on his throne, The Satraps throng’d the hall: A thousand bright lamps shone O’er that high festival. A thousand cups of gold,
Through life’s dull road, so dim a… I have dragg’d to three-and-thirty… What have these years left to me? Nothing—except thirty-three.
When, to their airy hall, my fathe… Shall call my spirit, joyful in th… When, poised upon the gale, my for… Or, dark in mist, descend the moun… Oh! may my shade behold no sculptu…
The harp the monarch minstrel swep… The King of men, the loved of Hea… Which Music hallow’d while she we… O’er tones her heart of hearts had… Redoubled be her tears, its chords…
I would to heaven that I were so… As I am blood, bone, marrow, pass… Because at least the past were pas… And for the future - (but I write… Having got drunk exceedingly today…
The Son of Love and Lord of War… Him who bade England bow to Norma… And left the name of conqueror mor… To his unconquerable dynasty. Not fann’d alone by Victory’s fle…