#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Sermons he read, and lectures he e… And homilies, and lives of all the… To Jerome and to Chrysostom inure… He did not take such studies for r… But how faith is acquired, and the…
Father of Light! great God of He… Hear’st thou the accents of despai… Can guilt like man’s be e’er forgi… Can vice atone for crimes by praye… Father of Light, on thee I call!
He who sublime in epic numbers rol… And he who struck the softer lyre… By Death’s unequal hand alike con… Fit comrades in Elysian regions m…
A spirit passed before me: I behe… The face of immortality unveiled— Deep sleep came down on every eye… And there it stood,—all formless—b… Along my bones the creeping flesh…
Kind Reader! take your choice to… Here HAROLD lies, but where’s h… If such you seek, try Westminster… Ten thousand just as fit for him a… Athens
ÃGLE, beauty and poet, has two l… She makes her own face, and does n…
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
I want a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends fo… Till, after cloying the gazettes w… The age discovers he is not the tr… Of such as these I should not car…
Spot of my youth! whose hoary bran… Swept by the breeze that fans thy… Where now alone I muse, who oft h… With those I loved, thy soft and… With those who, scattered far, per…
Since the refinement of this polis… Has swept irnmortal raillery from… Since taste has now expunged licen… Which stamp’d disgrace on all an a… Since now to please with purer sce…
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
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…
In this book a traveller had writt… ‘Fair Albion, smiling, sees her s… To trace the birth and nursery of… Noble his object, glorious is his… He comes to Athens, and he writes…
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…
Which, in the Arabic language, is… THE Moorish King rides up and do… Through Granada’s royal town; From Elvira’s gate to those Of Bivarambla on he goes.
