#EnglishWriters #Romantic
Adieu, adieu! my native shore Fades o’ver the waters blue; The night-winds sigh, the breakers… And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea
There is a pleasure in the pathles… There is a rapture on the lonely s… There is society, where none intru… By the deep sea, and music in its… I love not man the less, but Natu…
When Thurlow this damn’d nonsense… (I hope I am not violent), Nor men nor gods knew what he mean… And since not even our Rogers’ pr… To common sense his thoughts could…
‘I cannot but remember such things… And were most dear to me.’ WHEN slow Disease, with all her… Chills the warm, tide which flows… When Health, affrighted, spreads…
Huzza! Hodgson, we are going, Our embargo’s off at last; Favourable breezes blowing Bend the canvass o’er the mast. From aloft the signal’s streaming,
Sons of the Greeks, arise! The glorious hour’s gone forth, And, worthy of such ties, Display who gave us birth. CHORUS.
As the Liberty lads o’er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply,… So we, boys, we Will die fighting, or live free, And down with all kings but King…
If sometimes in the haunts of men Thine image from my breast may fad… The lonely hour presents again The semblance of thy gentle shade: And now that sad and silent hour
Away with your fictions of flimsy… Those tissues of falsehood which… Give me the mild beam of the soul—… Or the rapture which dwells on the… Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with fant…
Eternal Spirit of the chainless M… Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, t… For there thy habitation is the he… The heart which love of thee alone… And when thy sons to fetters are c…
When some proud son of man returns… Unknown to glory, but upheld by bi… The sculptor’s art exhausts the po… And storied urns record who rest b… When all is done, upon the tomb is…
‘But if any old lady, knight, prie… Should condemn me for printing a s… If good Madam Squintum my work sh… May I venture to give her a smack… CANDOUR compels me, BECHER!…
THOUGH the day of my destiny’s… And the star of my fate hath decli… Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could fin… Though thy soul with my grief was…
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…
Ill-fated Heart! And can it be, That thou should’st thus be rent i… Have years of care for thine and t… Alike been all employ’d in vain? Yet precious seems each shatter’d…