#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Oh you, who in all names can tickl… Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore,… For hang me if I know of which yo… Your Quarto two-pounds, or your T… But now to my letter-to yours 'tis…
Bob Southey! You’re a poet—Poet-… And representative of all the race… Although 'tis true that you turn’d… Last—yours has lately been a commo… And now, my Epic Renegade! what a…
There is a tear for all that die, A mourner o’er the humblest grave; But nations swell the funeral cry, And Triumph weeps above the brave… For them is Sorrow’s purest sigh
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left J… Pillow’d upon a fair and happy bre… And watch’d by eyes that never yet… And loved by a young heart, too de… To feel the poison through her spi…
Here once engaged the stranger’s v… Young Friendship’s record simply… Few were her words; but yet, thoug… Resentment’s hand the line defaced… Deeply she cut—but not erased,
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…
When coldness wraps this suffering… Ah! whither strays the immortal mi… It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darken’d dust behin… Then, unembodied, doth it trace
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of...
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,
‘What say I?’—not a syllable furt… I’m your man ‘of all measures,’ de… Here goes, for a swim on the strea… On those buoyant supporters, the b… If our weight breaks them down, an…
The world is full of orphans: firs… Who are so in the strict sense of… (But many a lonely tree the loftie… Than others crowded in the forest’… The next are such as are not doome…
You have ask’d for a verse:—the re… In a rhymer 'twere strange to deny… But my Hippocrene was but my brea… And my feelings (its fountain) are… Were I now as I was, I had sung
Long years!—It tries the thrillin… And eagle-spirit of a child of So… Long years of outrage, calumny, an… Imputed madness, prison’d solitude… And the mind’s canker in its savag…
[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…
Fill the goblet again! for I neve… Felt the glow which now gladdens m… Let us drink!—who would not?—since… In the goblet alone no deception i… I have tried in its turn all that…
