#EnglishWriters #Romantic
The Assyrian came down like the w… And his cohorts were gleaming in p… And the sheen of their spears was… When the blue wave rolls nightly o… Like the leaves of the forest when…
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were… And health and youth possess’d me; My goblets blush’d from every vine… And lovely forms caress’d me; I sunn’d my heart in beauty’s eyes…
How pleasant were the songs of To… When Summer’s Sun went down the c… Come, let us to the islet’s softes… And hear the warbling birds I the… The wood-dove from the forest dept…
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…
Thy days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country’s strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaughter of his sword! The deeds he did, the fields he wo…
Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh give me back my heart! Or, since that has left my breast, Keep it now, and take the rest! Hear my vow before I go,
My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore, Here’s a double health to thee! Here’s a sigh to those who love me…
‘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… ANSWER TO THE FOREGO…
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…
This Band, which bound thy yellow… Is mine, sweet girl! Thy pledge o… It claims my warmest, dearest care… Like relics left of saints above. Oh! I will wear it next my heart;
[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…
Oh! snatched away in beauty’s bloo… On thee shall press no ponderous t… But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of ' th… And the wild cypress wave in tende…
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…
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
‘Sulpicia ad Cerinthum.’—Lib. iv. Cruel Cerinthus! does the fell di… Which racks my breast your fickle… Alas! I wish’d but to o’ercome th… That I might live for love and yo…