#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
Whom should I choose for my Judge… Who, in the work, forgets me and t… Ye who have eyes to detect, and G… Have you the heart, too, that love… What is the meed of thy Song? 'Ti…
Beneath the blaze of a tropical su… Frost, through the absence of obje… with us shares, seems scarce our o… The best belov’d, who loveth me th… is for the heart, what the support…
O peace, that on a lilied bank dos… To rest thine head beneath an oliv… I would that from the pinions of t… One quill withouten pain yplucked… For oh! I wish my Sara’s frowns t…
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose,
God be with thee, gladsome Ocean! How gladly greet I thee once more… Ships and waves, and ceaseless mot… And men rejoicing on thy shore. Dissuading spake the mild physicia…
Underneath an old oak tree There was of swine a huge company That grunted as they crunched the… For that was ripe, and fell full f… Then they trotted away, for the wi…
Hast thou a charm to stay the morn… In his steep course? So long he s… On thy bald awful head, O sovran… The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most a…
Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects to reflect the rays. ‘What no one with us shares, seems scarce our own.’ ...
THERE is one Mind, one omnipres… Omnific. His most holy name is Lo… Truth of subliming import! with th… Who feeds and saturates his consta… He from his small particular orbit…
Author. A lovely form there sate beside my… And such a feeding calm its presen… A tender love so pure from earthly… That I unnethe the fancy might co…
Well, they are gone, and here must… This lime-tree bower my prison! I… Beauties and feelings, such as wou… Most sweet to my remembrance even… Had dimm’d mine eyes to blindness!…
At midnight by the stream I roved… To forget the form I loved. Image of Lewti! from my mind Depart; for Lewti is not kind. The Moon was high, the moonlight…
Now as Heaven is my Lot, they’re… Wherever they can come With clankum and blankum 'Tis all Botheration, & Hell… With fun, jeering
The grapes upon the Vicar’s wall Were ripe as ripe could be; And yellow leaves in sun and wind Were falling from the tree. On the hedge-elms in the narrow la…
It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glitte… Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? The Bridegroom’s doors are opened…