#EnglishWriters #Romantic
When the vain triumph of the imper… Whom servile Rome obey’d, and yet… Gave to the vulgar gaze each glori… That left a likeness of the brave… What most admired each scrutinisin…
Oh, Friend! for ever loved, for e… What fruitless tears have bathed t… What sighs re’echo’d to thy partin… Wilst thou wast struggling in the… Could tears retard the tyrant in h…
The following iiliberal imprompt… 'Our nation’s foes lament on Fox’… But bless the hour when PITT res… These feelings wide, let sense and… We give the palm where Justice po…
In thee I fondly hoped to clasp A friend whom death alone could se… Till envy, with malignant grasp, Detach’d thee from my breast for e… True, she has forced thee from my…
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si J… Ye scenes of my childhood, whose l… Embitters the present, compar’d wi… Where science first dawn’d on the… And friendships were form’d, too r…
WRITTEN IN 'LETTERS O… ‘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…
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…
We do not curse thee, Waterloo! Though Freedom’s blood thy plain… There 'twas shed, but is not sunk Rising from each gory trunk, Like the water-spout from ocean,
Here’s a happy new year! but with… I beg you’ll permit me to say Wish me many returns of the season… But as few as you please of the dy… January 2, 1820.
Young Oak! when I planted thee de… I hoped that thy days would be lon… That thy dark‑waving branches woul… And ivy thy trunk with its mantle… Such, such was my hope, when in in…
’TIS time this heart should be un… Since others it hath ceased to mov… Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf;
Oh, Anne, your offences to me hav… I thought from my wrath no atoneme… But woman is made to command and d… I look 'd in your face, and I alm… I vow’d I could ne’er for a momen…
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…
CLXXVIII. There is a pleasure in the pathles… There is a rapture on the lonely s… There is society where none intrud… By the deep Sea, and music in its…
If that high world, which lies bey… Our own, surviving Love endears; If there the cherish’d heart be fo… The eye the same, except in tears… How welcome those untrodden sphere…