#EnglishWriters #Romantic
In moments to delight devoted, ‘My life!’ with tenderest tone you… Dear words! on which my heart had… If youth could neither fade nor di… To death even hours like these mus…
White as a white sail on a dusky s… When half the horizon 's clouded a… Fluttering between the dun wave an… Is Hope’s last gleam in Man’s ext… Her anchor parts; but still her sn…
Through cloudless skies, in silver… Full beams the moon on Actium’s c… And on these waves for Egypt’s qu… The ancient world was won and lost… And now upon the scene I look,
There be none of Beauty’s daughte… With a magic like Thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing
These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense love ora… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…
When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass, And the meteor on the grave, And the wisp on the morass; When the falling stars are shootin…
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 receiv’d them in her…
The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses who pull; Each tugs it a different way, And the greatest of all is John B…
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…
When Bishop Berkeley said “there… And proved it—'twas no matter what… They say his system ‘tis in vain t… Too subtle for the airiest human h… And yet who can believe it! I wou…
If from great nature’s or our own… Of thought we could but snatch a c… Perhaps mankind might find the pat… But then 'twould spoil much good p… One system eats another up, and th…
My sister! my sweet sister! if a n… Dearer and purer were, it should b… Mountains and seas divide us, but… No tears, but tenderness to answer… Go where I will, to me thou art t…
Oh! Weep for those that wept by B… Whose shrines are desolate, whose… Weep for the harp of Judah’s brok… Mourn—where their God that dwelt-… II.
Could Love for ever Run like a river, And Time’s endeavour Be tried in vain No other pleasure
Here’s a happy new year! but with… I beg you’ll permit me to say Wish me many returns of the season… But as few as you please of the dy… January 2, 1820.