#EnglishWriters #Romantic
How pleasant were the songs of To… When Summer’s Sun went down the c… Come, let us to the islet’s softes… And hear the warbling birds I the… The wood-dove from the forest dept…
You have ask’d for a verse:—the re… In a rhymer 'twere strange to deny… But my Hippocrene was but my brea… And my feelings (its fountain) are… Were I now as I was, I had sung
Woman! experience might have told… That all must love thee who behold… Surely experience might have taugh… Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms befo…
Through thy battlements, Newstead… Thou, the hall of my Fathers, art… In thy once smiling garden, the he… Have choak’d up the rose, which la… Of the mail-cover’d Barons, who,…
'I had rather be a kitten, and cry… Than one of these same metre balla… ‘Such shameless bards we have; and… There are as mad, abandon’d critic… Still must I hear?—shall hoarse F…
When the last sunshine of expiring… In summer’s twilight weeps itself… Who hath not felt the softness of… Sink on the heart, as dew along th… With a pure feeling which absorbs…
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…
I had a dream, which was not all a… The bright sun was extinguish’d, a… Did wander darkling in the eternal… Rayless, and pathless, and the icy… Swung blind and blackening in the…
Why, Pigot, complain of this dams… Why thus in despair do you fret? For months you may try, yet, belie… Will never obtain a coquette. Would you teach her to love? for a…
‘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…
Sons of the Greeks, arise! The glorious hour’s gone forth, And, worthy of such ties, Display who gave us birth. CHORUS.
Spot of my youth! whose hoary bran… Swept by the breeze that fans thy… Where now alone I muse, who oft h… With those I loved, thy soft and… With those who, scattered far, per…
Adieu, ye joys of La Valette! Adieu, sirocco, sun, and sweat! Adieu, thou palace rarely enter’d! Adieu, ye mansions where I’ve ven… Adieu, ye cursed streets of stairs…
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…
Bright be the place of thy soul! No lovelier spirit than thine E’er burst from its mortal control In the orbs of the blessed to shin… On earth thou wert all but divine,