#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Wild, pale, and wonder-stricken, e… Who staggers forth into the air an… From the dark chamber of a mortal… Bewildered, and incapable, and eve… Fancying strange comments in her d…
Melodious Arethusa, o’er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of… Who denies verse to Gallus? So, w… Glidest beneath the green and purp… Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou f…
Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to… That things depart which never may… Childhood and youth, friendship an… Have fled like sweet dreams, leavi… These common woes I feel. One los…
Before those cruel twins whom at o… Incestuous Change bore to her fat… Error and Truth, had hunted from… All those bright natures which ado… And left us nothing to believe in,…
Spirit ‘I was an infant when my mother we… To see an atheist burned. She too… The dark-robed priests were met ar… The multitude was gazing silently;
From the forests and highlands We come, we come; From the river—girt islands, Where loud waves are dumb Listening my sweet pipings.
In the cave which wild weeds cover Wait for thine aethereal lover; For the pallid moon is waning, O’er the spiral cypress hanging And the moon no cloud is staining.
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
I sing the glorious Power with az… Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste… Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid, Revered and mighty; from his awful… Whom Jove brought forth, in warli…
Returning from its daily quest, my… Changed thoughts and vile in thee… It grieves me that thy mild and ge… Those ample virtues which it did i… Has lost. Once thou didst loathe…
Alas, good friend, what profit can… In hating such a hateless thing as… There is no sport in hate where al… Is on one side: in vain would you… Your frowns upon an unresisting sm…
The fierce beasts of the woods and… Track not the steps of him who dri… For the light breezes, which for e… Around its margin, heap the sand t…
And who feels discord now or sorro… Love is the universe to-day— These are the slaves of dim to-mor… Darkening Life’s labyrinthine way…
Thy dewy looks sink in my breast; Thy gentle words stir poison there… Thou hast disturbed the only rest That was the portion of despair! Subdued to Duty’s hard control,
Adapted From The Vita Nuova Of… What Mary is when she a little sm… I cannot even tell or call to mind… It is a miracle so new, so rare.
