#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
Myrtle leaf, that ill besped Pinest in the gladsome ray, Soiled beneath the common tread Far from thy protecting spray! When the partridge o’er the sheaf
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…
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur… Where may the grave of that good m… By the side of a spring, on the br… Under the twigs of a young birch t… The oak that in summer was sweet t…
Stop, Christian passer—by!—Stop,… And read with gentle breast. Bene… A poet lies, or that which once se… O, lift one thought in prayer for… That he who many a year with toil…
Lines composed while climbing the… With many a pause and oft reverted… I climb the Coomb’s ascent: sweet… Warble in shade their wild-wood me… Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soot…
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and b… As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye…
It was some spirit, Sheridan! tha… O’er thy young mind such wildly-va… My soul hath marked thee in her sh… Thy temples with Hymettian flowre… And sweet thy voice, as when o’er…
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philom… How many Bards in city garret pen… While at their window they with do… Mark the faint lamp-beam on the ke… And listen to the drowsy cry of W…
When Hope but made Tranquillity b… A Flight of Hopes for ever on the… But made Tranquillity a conscious… And wheeling round and round in sp… Fann’d the calm air upon the brow…
Pale Roamer thro’ the Night! thou… Remorse that man on his death-bed… Who in the credulous hour of tende… Betrayed, then cast thee forth to… The World is pityless; the Chaste…
If I had but two little wings And were a little feathery bird, To you I’d fly, my dear! But thoughts like these are idle t… And I stay here.
As late I journey’d o’er the exte… Where native Otter sports his sca… Musing in torpid woe a Sister’s p… The glorious prospect woke me from… At every step it widen’d to my sig…
Much on my early youth I love to… Ere yet I bade that friendly dome… Where first, beneath the echoing c… I heard of guilt and wondered at t… Yet tho’ the hours flew by on care…
Unchanged within, to see all chang… Is a blank lot and hard to bear, n… Yet why at others’ Wanings should… Then only might’st thou feel a jus… Hadst thou withheld thy love or hi…
As late each flower that sweetest… I pluck’d, the Garden’s pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I 'spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath
