#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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…
‘There is a tide in the affairs of… Which,—taken at the flood,’—you kn… And most of us have found it now a… At least we think so, though but f… The moment, till too late to come…
Woman! experience might have told… That all must love thee who behold… Surely experience might have taugh… Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms befo…
When the last sunshine of expiring… In summer’s twilight weeps itself… Who hath not felt the softness of… Sink on the heart, as dew along th… With a pure feeling which absorbs…
This votive pledge of fond esteem, Perhaps, dear girl! for me thou’lt… It sings of Love’s enchanting dre… A theme we never can despise. Who blames it but the envious fool…
[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! did those eyes, instead of fir… With bright, but mild affection sh… Though they might kindle less desi… Love, more than mortal, would be t… For thou art form’d so heavenly fa…
I had a dream, which was not all a… The bright sun was extinguish’d, a… Did wander darkling in the eternal… Rayless, and pathless, and the icy… Swung blind and blackening in the…
THE isles of Greece! the isles o… Where burning Sappho loved and su… Where grew the arts of war and pea… Where Delos rose, and Phoebus spr… Eternal summer gilds them yet,
I wish to tune my quivering lyre To deed of fame and notes of fire; To echo, from its rising swell, How heroes fought and nations fell… When Atreus’ sons advanced to war…
The ‘Origin of Love!’—Ah why That cruel question ask of me, When thou may’st read in many an e… He starts to life on seeing thee? And should’st thou seek his end to…
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge… A palace and a prison on each hand… I saw from out the wave her struct… As from the stroke of the enchante… A thousand years their cloudy wing…
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
Think’st thou I saw thy beauteous… Suffus’d in tears, implore to stay… And heard unmov’d thy plenteous si… Which said far more than words can… Though keen the grief thy tears ex…
Remember him, whom Passion’s powe… Severely—-deeply—-vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour, When neither fell, though both wer… That yielding breast, that melting…
