#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
'With Donne, whose muse on dromed… Wreathe iron pokers into true-love… Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s ma… Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meanin…
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…
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…
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…
Once more, sweet stream! with slow… I bless thy milky waters cold and… Escaped the flashing of the noonti… With one fresh garland of Pierian… (Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink…
Ungrateful he, who pluck’d thee fr… Poor faded flow’ret! on his carele… Inhal’d awhile thy odours on his w… Then onward pass’d and left thee t… Ah! melancholy emblem! had I seen
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…
From his brimstone bed at break of… A walking the DEVIL is gone, To visit his little snug farm of t… And see how his stock went on. Over the hill and over the dale,
William, my teacher, my friend! de… Smooth out the folds of my letter,… Place it on table or desk ; and yo… Gently sustain them in air, and ex… Rest it a moment on each of the fo…
Though friendships differ endless… The sorts, methinks, may be reduc… Ac quaintance many, and Con quai… But for In quaintance I know onl… The friend I’ve mourned with, and…
Not, Stanhope! with the Patriot’s… I mock thy worth—Friend of the hu… Since scorning Faction’s low and… Aloof thou wendest in thy stately… Thyself redeeming from that leprou…
It may indeed be phantasy, when I Essay to draw from all created thi… Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that c… And trace in leaves and flowers th… Lessons of love and earnest piety.
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…
The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew…
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.’ ...
