#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
And earnest to explore within—arou… The divine wood, whose thick green… Tempered the young day to the sigh… Up the green slope, beneath the fo… With slow, soft steps leaving the…
The flower that smiles to-day To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Ap… Who wakens with her smile the lull… Of sweet desire, taming the eterna… Of Heaven, and men, and all the l… That fleet along the air, or whom…
Ambition, power, and avarice, now… Death, fate, and ruin, on a bleedi… See! on yon heath what countless v… Hark! what loud shrieks ascend thr… Tell then the cause, 'tis sure the…
No trump tells thy virtues’the g… With thy dust shall remain unpollu… Till thy foes, by the world and by… Shall pass like a mist from the li… VII.
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save…
‘Do you not hear the Aziola cry? Methinks she must be nigh,’ Said Mary, as we sate In dusk, ere stars were lit, or ca… And I, who thought
The season was the childhood of sw… Whose sunny hours from morning unt… Went creeping through the day with… Each with its load of pleasure; sl… Like the long years of blest Eter…
WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken,
Why is it said thou canst not live In a youthful breast and fair, Since thou eternal life canst give… Canst bloom for ever there? Since withering pain no power poss…
And the cloven waters like a chasm… Stood, and received him in its mig… And led him through the deep’s u… He went in wonder through the path… Of his great Mother and her humid…
Come Harriet! sweet is the hour, Soft Zephyrs breathe gently aroun… The anemone’s night-boding flower, Has sunk its pale head on the grou… 'Tis thus the world’s keenness hat…
It is not blasphemy to hope that… More perfectly will give those nam… Which throb within the pulses of t… And sweeten all that bitterness wh… Infuses in the heaven-born soul.…
Hark! the owlet flaps her wing, In the pathless dell beneath, Hark! night ravens loudly sing, Tidings of despair and death.— Horror covers all the sky,
If I walk in Autumn’s even While the dead leaves pass, If I look on Spring’s soft heav… Something is not there which was Winter’s wondrous frost and snow,
