#EnglishWriters
Ah me! those old familiar bounds! That classic house, those classic… My pensive thought recalls! What tender urchins now confine, What little captives now repine,
It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the Time of Roses,— We plucked them as we passed! That churlish season never frown’d
O’er hill, and dale, and distant s… Through all the miles that stretch… My thought must fly to rest on the… And would, though worlds should in… Nay, thou art now so dear, methink…
Oh, ’tis a touching thing, to make… A tender infant with its curtain’d… Breathing as it would neither live… With that unchanging countenance o… As if its silent dream, serene and…
Good morrow to the golden morning, Good morrow to the world’s delight… I’ve come to bless thy life’s begi… Since it makes my own so bright! I have brought no roses, sweetest,
I Saw old Autumn in the misty mor… Stand shadowless like Silence, li… To silence, for no lonely bird wou… Into his hollow ear from woods for… Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn…
She’s up and gone, the graceless g… And robb’d my failing years! My blood before was thin and cold But now ’tis turn’d to tears;— My shadow falls upon my grave,
The sun was slumbering in the Wes… My daily labors past; On Anna’s soft and gentle breast My head reclined at last; The darkness closed around, so dea…
O Lady, leave thy silken thread And flowery tapestrie: There’s living roses on the bush, And blossoms on the tree; Stoop where thou wilt, thy careles…
Thou happy, happy elf! (But stop,—first let me kiss away… Thou tiny image of myself! (My love, he’s poking peas into hi… Thou merry, laughing sprite!
I heard a gentle maiden, in the sp… Set her sweet sighs to music, and… ‘Fly through the world, and I wil… Only for looks that may turn back… ’Only for roses that your chance m…
Look how the lark soars upward and… Turning a spirit as he nears the s… His voice is heard, but body there… To fix the vague excursions of the… So, poets’ songs are with us, tho’…
There is dew for the flow’ret And honey for the bee, And bowers for the wild bird, And love for you and me. There are tears for the many
Mother of light! how fairly dost t… Over those hoary crests, divinely… Art thou that huntress of the silv… Fabled of old? Or rather dost tho… Those cloudy summits thence to gaz…
Most delicate Ariel! submissive t… Won by the mind’s high magic to it… Invisible embassy, or secret guest… Weighing the light air on a lighte… Whether into the midnight moon, to…