#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
Resembles Life what once was held… Too ample in itself for human sigh… An absolute Self—an element ungro… All, that we see, all colours of a… [Image]By encroach of darkness ma…
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…
Do you ask what the birds say? Th… The linnet, and thrush say, ‘I lo… In the winter they’re silent, the… What it says I don’t know, but it… But green leaves and blossoms, and…
All thoughts, all passions, all de… Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I
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…
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…
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…
Ye Clouds! that far above me floa… Whose pathless march no mortal may… Ye Ocean—Waves! that, wheresoe’er… Yield homage only to eternal laws! Ye Woods! that listen to the nigh…
Well! If the Bard was weather—wis… The grand old ballad of Sir Patri… This night, so tranquil now, will… Unroused by winds, that ply a busi… Than those which mould yon cloud i…
What if you slept And what if In your sleep You dreamed And what if
A mount, not wearisome and bare an… But a green mountain variously up-… Where o’er the jutting rocks soft… Or colored lichens with slow oozin… Where cypress and the darker yew s…
When they did greet me Father, su… Weigh’d down my spirit! I retired… Seeking the throne of grace, but i… No heavenly visitation upwards dra… My feeble mind, nor cheering ray i…
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…
The piteous sobs that choke the V… For him, the fair betrothed Youth… Cold in the narrow dwelling, or th… With which a Mother wails her Dar… These from our Nature’s common im…
Come hither, gently rowing, Come, bear me quickly o’er This stream so brightly flowing To yonder woodland shore. But vain were my endeavour
