#EnglishWriters #Romantic
And thou art dead, as young and fa… As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so ra… Too soon return’d to Earth! Though Earth received them in her…
When I roved a young Highlander o… And climb’d thy steep sumrnit, oh… To gaze on the torrent that thunde… Or the mist of the tempest that ga… Untutor’d by science, a stranger t…
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
I would to heaven that I were so… As I am blood, bone, marrow, pass… Because at least the past were pas… And for the future - (but I write… Having got drunk exceedingly today…
"The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di Romania, the most considerab...
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cav… Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wav… The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride,
Rousseau—Voltaire—our Gibbon—De… Leman! these names are worthy of t… Thy shore of names like these! wer… Their memory thy remembrance would… To them thy banks were lovely as t…
To the tune of ‘Why, how now, sau… Why, how now, saucy Tom? If you thus must ramble, I will publish some Remarks on Mister Campbell.
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
The harp the monarch minstrel swep… The King of men, the loved of Hea… Which Music hallow’d while she we… O’er tones her heart of hearts had… Redoubled be her tears, its chords…
White as a white sail on a dusky s… When half the horizon 's clouded a… Fluttering between the dun wave an… Is Hope’s last gleam in Man’s ext… Her anchor parts; but still her sn…
The spell is broke; the charm is f… Thus is it with life’s fitful feve… We madly smile when we should groa… Delirium is our best deceiver. Each lucid interval of thought
‘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…
Saint Peter sat by the celestial… His keys were rusty, and the lock… So little trouble had been given o… Not that the place by any means wa… But since the Gallic era 'eight-e…
Francisca walks in the shadow of n… But it is not to gaze on the heave… But if she sits in her garden bowe… 'Tis not for the sake of its blowi… She listens– but not for the night…