#EnglishWriters #Romantic
The Son of Love and Lord of War… Him who bade England bow to Norma… And left the name of conqueror mor… To his unconquerable dynasty. Not fann’d alone by Victory’s fle…
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…
No breath of air to break the wave That rolls below the Athenian’s g… That tomb which, gleaming o’er the… First greets the homeward-veering… High o’er the land he saved in vai…
When a man hath no freedom to figh… Let him combat for that of his nei… Let him think of the glories of G… And get knock’d on the head for hi… To do good to mankind is the chiva…
I watched thee when the foe was at… Ready to strike at him—or thee and… Were safety hopeless—rather than d… Aught with one loved save love and… I watched thee on the breakers, wh…
In moments to delight devoted, ‘My life!’ with tenderest tone you… Dear words! on which my heart had… If youth could neither fade nor di… To death even hours like these mus…
My soul is dark - Oh! quickly str… The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o’er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear,
If, in the month of dark December… Leander, who was nightly wont (What maid will not the tale remem… To cross thy stream, broad Helles… If, when the wintry tempest roar’d…
Of two fair virgins, modest, thoug… Heaven made us happy; and now, wre… Heaven for a nobler doom their wor… And gazing upon either, both requi… Mine, while the torch of Hymen ne…
I stood beside the grave of him wh… The comet of a season, and I saw The humblest of all sepulchres, an… With not the less of sorrow and of… On that neglected turf and quiet s…
Without a stone to mark the spot, And say, what Truth might well ha… By all, save one, perchance forgot… Ah! wherefore art thou lowly laid? By many a shore and many a sea
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
With death doom’d to grapple, Beneath this cold slab, he Who lied in the Chapel Now lies in the Abbey.
The Moorish King rides up and dow… Through Granada’s royal town; From Elvira’s gate to those Of Bivarambla on he goes. Woe is me, Alhama!
'I lay my branch of laurel down. Then thus to form Apollo’s crown. Let every other bring his own.'~L… ‘I lay my branch of laurel down.’ Thou ‘lay thy branch of laurel dow…