#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
'Thus do the generations of the ea… Go to the grave and issue from the… Surviving still the imperishable c… That renovates the world; even as… Which the keen frost-wind of the w…
Great Spirit whom the sea of boun… Nurtures within its unimagined cav… In which thou sittest sole, as in… Giving a voice to its mysterious w…
And canst thou mock mine agony, th… In cloudless radiance, Queen of s… Can you, ye flow’rets, spread your… Mid pearly gems of dew that shine… And you wild winds, thus can you s…
Let those who pine in pride or in… Or think that ill for ill should b… Who barter wrong for wrong, until… Ruins the merchants of such thrift… Visit the tower of Vado, and unle…
I loved’alas! our life is love; But when we cease to breathe and m… I do suppose love ceases too. I thought, but not as now I do, Keen thoughts and bright of linked…
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it… Who dares arrest the wheels of des… And plunge me in the lowest Hell… Will not the lightning’s blast des… Will not steel drink the blood-lif…
I dreamed that Milton’s spirit ro… From life’s green tree his Urania… And from his touch sweet thunder f… All human things built in contempt… And sanguine thrones and impious a…
“Throughout these infinite orbs of… Of which yon earth is one, is wide… A Spirit of activity and life, That knows no term, cessation, or… That fades not when the lamp of ea…
The fiery mountains answer each ot… Their thunderings are echoed from… The tempestuous oceans awake one a… And the ice-rocks are shaken round… When the clarion of the Typhoon i…
'How beautiful this night! the bal… Which vernal zephyrs breathe in ev… Were discord to the speaking quiet… That wraps this moveless scene. H… Studded with stars unutterably bri…
That time is dead for ever, child! Drowned, frozen, dead for ever! We look on the past And stare aghast At the spectres wailing, pale and…
Swifter far than summer’s flight— Swifter far than youth’s delight— Swifter far than happy night, Art thou come and gone— As the earth when leaves are dead,
Lift not the painted veil which th… Call Life: though unreal shapes b… And it but mimic all we would beli… With colours idly spread,—behind,… And Hope, twin Destinies; who eve…
HOW wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue; The other, rosy as the morn
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
