#EnglishWriters #Romantic
Is thy face like thy mother’s, my… Ada! sole daughter of my house and… When last I saw thy young blue ey… And then we parted,—not as now we… But with a hope.—
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…
I speak not, I trace not, I breat… There is grief in the sound, there… But the tear that now burns on my… The deep thoughts that dwell in th… Too brief for our passion, too lon…
When a man hath no freedom to figh… Let him combat for that of his nei… Let him think of the glories of G… And get knock’d on the head for hi… To do good to mankind is the chiva…
Stranger! behold, interr’d togethe… The souls of learning and of leath… Poor Joe is gone, but left his al… You’ll find his relics in a stall. His works were neat, and often fou…
Ah! gentle, fleeting, wav’ring spr… Friend and associate of this clay! To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou now wing thy distant fli… No more with wonted humour gay,
Star of the brave!—whose beam hath… Such glory o’er the quick and dead… Thou radiant and adored deceit! Which millions rush’d in arms to g… Wild meteor of immortal birth;
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…
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other’s weal avail’d on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky. Twere vain to speak, to weep, to s…
As o’er the cold sepulchral stone Some name arrests the passer-by; Thus, when thou view’st this page… May mine attract thy pensive eye! And when by thee that name is read…
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…
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
Thy cheek is pale with thought, bu… And yet so lovely, that if Mirth… Its rose of whiteness with the bri… My heart would wish away that rude… And dazzle not thy deep-blue eyes—…
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.
The braziers, it seems, are prepar… An address, and present it themsel… A superfluous pageant-for, by the… They’ll find where they’re going m…
