#EnglishWriters
(Time, Noon.) HUMPHREY: See’st thou not William that the… By this time half his daily race h… The savage thrusts his light canoe…
Let ancient stories round the pain… Who stole from many a maid his Ve… Till warm devotion fired each gaze… And every bosom bounded with alarm… He culled the beauties of his nati…
Stranger! awhile upon this mossy b… Recline thee. If the Sun rides hi… That loves to ripple o’er the rivu… Will play around thy brow, and the… Of running waters soothe thee. Ma…
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…
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…
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…
STRANGER. Old friend! why you seem bent on p… Breaking the highway stones,—and ’… Somewhat too hard methinks for age… OLD MAN.
Cold was the night wind, drifting… Wide were the downs and shelterles… When a poor Wanderer struggled on… Weary and way-sore. Drear were the downs, more dreary…
O thou who from the mountain’s hei… Roll’st down thy clouds with all t… Of waters to old Niles majestic t… Or o’er the dark sepulchral plain Recallest thy Palmyra’s ancient p…
Faint gleams the evening radiance… The sober twilight dimly darkens r… In short quick circles the shrill… And the slow vapour curls along th… Now the pleas’d eye from yon lone…
He stopt,—it surely was a groan That from the hovel came! He stopt and listened anxiously Again it sounds the same. It surely from the hovel comes!
Nay EDITH! spare the rose!—it l… It feels the noon-tide sun, and dr… The dews of night; let not thy gen… Tear sunder its life-fibres and de… The sense of being!—why that infid…
ACT III. SCENE—SMITHFIELD. PIERS (meeting JOHN BALL.) You look disturb’d, my father? JOHN BALL.
Here Stranger rest thee! from the… Of Oxford, haply thou hast forced… Up this strong stream, whose broke… Send pleasant murmurs to the liste… Rest thee beneath this hazel; its…
Hold your mad hands! for ever on y… Must the gorged vulture clog his b… For ever must your Nigers tainted… Roll to the ravenous shark his ban… Hold your mad hands! what daemon p…