#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Is not to-day enough? Why do I pe… Into the darkness of the day to co… Is not to-morrow even as yesterday… And will the day that follows chan… Few flowers grow upon thy wintry w…
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.
To thirst and find no fill—to wail… With short unsteady steps—to pause… To feel the blood run through the… Where busy thought and blind sensa… To nurse the image of unfelt cares…
Ask not the pallid stranger’s woe, With beating heart and throbbing b… Whose step is faltering, weak, and… As though the body needed rest.— Whose ‘wildered eye no object meet…
Thy country’s curse is on thee, da… Of that foul, knotted, many-headed… Which rends our Mother’s bosom—Pr… Masked Resurrection of a buried F… II.
A golden-winged Angel stood Before the Eternal Judgement-seat… His looks were wild, and Devils’… Stained his dainty hands and feet. The Father and the Son
I am drunk with the honey wine Of the moon-unfolded eglantine, Which fairies catch in hyacinth bo… The bats, the dormice, and the mol… Sleep in the walls or under the sw…
Maiden, quench the glare of sorrow Struggling in thine haggard eye: Firmness dare to borrow From the wreck of destiny; For the ray morn’s bloom revealing
What! alive and so bold, O Earth? Art thou not overbold? What! leapest thou forth as of old In the light of thy morning mirth, The last of the flock of the starr…
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
Thou art fair, and few are fairer Of the Nymphs of earth or ocean; They are robes that fit the wearer… Those soft limbs of thine, whose m… Ever falls and shifts and glances
The awful shadow of some unseen P… Floats though unseen among us; vis… This various world with as inconst… As summer winds that creep from fl… Like moonbeams that behind some pi…
The keen stars were twinkling, And the fair moon was rising among… Dear Jane. The guitar was tinkling, But the notes were not sweet till…
Silence! Oh, well are Death and… Three brethren named, the guardian… Of one abyss, where life, and trut… Are swallowed up—yet spare me, Sp… Until the sounds I hear become my…
'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…
