#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
'Tis the middle of night by the ca… And the owls have awakened the cro… Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! And hark, again! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew.
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,
Sea—ward, white gleaming thro’ the… With arching Wings, the sea—mew o… Posts on, as bent on speed, now pa… Edges the stiffer Breeze, now, yi… Now floats upon the air, and sends…
Like a lone Arab, old and blind, Some caravan had left behind, Who sits beside a ruin’d well, Where the shy sand—asps bask and s… And now he hangs his ag{'e}d head…
Tho’ roused by that dark Visir ri… Have driven our Priestly o’er the… Tho’ Superstition and her wolfish… Bay his mild radiance, impotent an… Calm in his halls of Brightness h…
This is now—this was erst, Proposition the first—and Problem… On a given finite Line Which must no way incline; To describe an equi—
I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel… Than if ’twere Truth. It has been… Must I die under it? Is no one ne… Will no one hear these stifled gro…
Stretched on a mouldered Abbey’s… Where ruining ivies propped the ru… Her folded arms wrapping her tatte… Had Melancholy mused herself to s… The fern was pressed beneath her h…
The Frost performs its secret min… Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s… Came loud—and hark, again! loud as… The inmates of my cottage, all at… Have left me to that solitude, whi…
Now as Heaven is my Lot, they’re… Wherever they can come With clankum and blankum 'Tis all Botheration, & Hell… With fun, jeering
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
This Sycamore, oft musical with b… Such tents the Patriarchs loved!… May all its agèd boughs o’er—canop… The small round basin, which this… Keeps pure from falling leaves! L…
O! I do love thee, meek Simplicit… For of thy lays the lulling simple… Goes to my heart, and soothes each… Distress tho’ small, yet haply gre… 'Tis true, on Lady Fortune’s gent…
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…
Are there two things, of all which… That are so like each other and so… As mutual Love seems like to Happ… Dear Asra, woman beyond utterance… This love which ever welling at my…
