#Imagery #Pastoral
Schiller! that hour I would have… If thro’ the shudd’ring midnight… From the dark Dungeon of the Towe… That fearful voice, a famished Fa… That in no after moment aught less…
Water and windmills, greenness, I… Willows whose Trunks beside the s… Of their own higher half, and will… Farmhouses that at anchor seem’d—i… The fog-transfixing Spires—
Dear native brook! wild streamlet… How many various-fated years have… What happy and what mournful hours… I skimmed the smooth thin stone al… Numbering its light leaps! Yet so…
Tho’ veiled in spires of myrtle-wr… Love is a sword that cuts its shea… And thro’ the clefts, itself has m… We spy the flashes of the Blade! But thro’ the clefts, itself has m…
Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave? I said, you had no soul, ‘tis true… For what you are, you cannot have: ’Tis I, that have one since I fir… I have heard of reasons manifold
Charles! my slow heart was only sa… I scanned that face of feeble infa… For dimly on my thoughtful spirit… All I had been, and all my babe m… But when I saw it on its Mother’s…
The poet in his lone yet genial ho… Gives to his eyes a magnifying pow… Or rather he emancipates his eyes From the black shapeless accidents… In unctuous cones of kindling coal…
My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white-flower’d Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
The stream with languid murmur cre… In Lumin’s flowery vale: Beneath the dew the Lily weeps Slow-waving to the gale. ‘Cease, restless gale! ’it seems t…
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
Thou gentle Look, that didst my s… Why hast thou left me? Still in s… Revisit my sad heart, auspicious… As falls on closing flowers the lu… What time, in sickly mood, at part…
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…
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…
O thou wild fancy, check thy wing!… Those thin white flakes, those pur… Nor there with happy spirits speed… Bathed in rich amber-glowing flood… Nor in yon gleam, where slow desce…
My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek r… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white—flowered Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
