#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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
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…
Through cloudless skies, in silver… Full beams the moon on Actium’s c… And on these waves for Egypt’s qu… The ancient world was won and lost… And now upon the scene I look,
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…
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…
Thine eyes’ blue tenderness, thy l… And the wan lustre of thy features… From contemplation-where serenely… Seems Sorrow’s softness charm’d f… Have thrown such speaking sadness…
When Bishop Berkeley said “there… And proved it—'twas no matter what… They say his system ‘tis in vain t… Too subtle for the airiest human h… And yet who can believe it! I wou…
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,
When, from the heart where Sorrow… Her dusky shadow mounts too high, And o’er the changing aspect flits… And clouds the brow, or fills the… Heed not that gloom, which soon sh…
These locks, which fondly thus ent… In firmer chains our hearts confin… Than all th’ unmeaning protestatio… Which swell with nonsense, love or… Our love is fix’d, I think we’ve…
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…
One struggle more, and I am free From pangs that rend my heart in t… One last long sigh to love and the… Then back to busy life again. It suits me well to mingle now
Ah! heedless girl! why thus disclo… What ne’er was meant for other ear… Why thus destroy thine own repose And dig the source of future tears… Oh, thou wilt weep, imprudent maid…
Why should my anxious breast repin… Because my youth is fled? Days of delight may still be mine; Affection is not dead. In tracing back the years of youth…
If from great nature’s or our own… Of thought we could but snatch a c… Perhaps mankind might find the pat… But then 'twould spoil much good p… One system eats another up, and th…