#EnglishWriters
Margaret! my Cousin!—nay, you mus… I love the homely and familiar phr… And I will call thee Cousin Marg… However quaint amid the measured l… The good old term appears. Oh! it…
Go Valentine and tell that lovely… Whom Fancy still will pourtray to… How her Bard lingers in this sull… This dreary gloom of dull monastic… Say that from every joy of life re…
And I was once like this! that gl… Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling… Smooth as the level lake, when not… Dies o’er the sleeping surface! tw… Have wrought strange alteration!…
Tho’ now no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o’er the green wood s… I love thee Winter! well. Sweet are the harmonies of Spring…
Hard by the road, where on that li… The high grass rustles to the pass… The child of Misery rests her hea… Pause there in sadness. That unha… Inshrines what once was Isabel. S…
Glad as the weary traveller tempes… To reach secure at length his nati… Who wandering long o’er distant la… The night-blast wildly howling rou… Known all the woes of want, and fe…
For thirty years secluded from man… Here Marten linger’d. Often have… Echoed his footsteps, as with even… He paced around his prison: not to… Did Nature’s fair varieties exist…
The Raven croak’d as she sate at… And the Old Woman knew what he sa… And she grew pale at the Raven’s… And sicken’d and went to her bed. Now fetch me my children, and fetc…
Why dost thou beat thy breast and… And to the deaf sea pour thy frant… Before the gale the laden vessel f… The Heavens all-favoring smile, t… Hark to the clamors of the exultin…
Enter this cavern Stranger! the a… Is long and steep and toilsome; he… Thou mayest repose thee, from the… O’ercanopied by this arch’d rock t… A grateful coolness: clasping its…
MY days among the Dead are past; Â Â Â Around me I behold, Where’er these casual eyes are cas… Â Â Â The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they,
(to the rainbow) Mild arch of promise! on the eveni… Thou shinest fair with many a love… Each in the other melting. Much m… Delights to linger on thee; for th…
JANE. Harry! I’m tired of playing. We’l… The fire, and Grandmamma perhaps… One of her stories. HARRY.
It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar’s work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green
ACT II. SCENE—BLACKHEATH. TYLER, HOB, &c. SONG. ‘ When Adam delv’d, and Eve span,