#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Inter marmoreas Leonorae pendula… Fortunata mmis Machina dicit hora… Quas manibus premit ilia duas inse… Cur mihi sit digito tangere, amata…
Alas! this is not what I thought… I knew that there were crimes and… Misery and hate; nor did I hope t… Untouched by suffering, through th… In mine own heart I saw as in a g…
Tan ala tan glaukan otan onemos at… When winds that move not its calm… The azure sea, I love the land no… The smiles of the serene and tranq… Tempt my unquiet mind.—But when t…
The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of sn…
Ghosts of the dead! have I not he… Rise on the night-rolling breath o… When o’er the dark aether the temp… And on eddying whirlwind the thund… II.
Ye gentle visitations of calm thou… Moods like the memories of happier… Which come arrayed in thoughts of… Like stars in clouds by the weak w… But that the clouds depart and sta…
Dark Spirit of the desart rude That o’er this awful solitude, Each tangled and untrodden wood, Each dark and silent glen below, Where sunlight’s gleamings never g…
The world is now our dwelling-plac… Where’er the earth one fading trac… Of what was great and free does ke… That is our home!... Mild thoughts of man’s ungentle ra…
They die—the dead return not—Mise… Sits near an open grave and calls… A Youth with hoary hair and hagga… They are the names of kindred, fri… Which he so feebly calls—they all…
THE wind has swept from the wide… Each vapour that obscured the suns… And pallid Evening twines its bea… In duskier braids around the langu… Silence and Twilight, unbeloved o…
Thy beauty hangs around thee like Splendour around the moon— Thy voice, as silver bells that st… Upon...
Where art thou, beloved To-morrow… When young and old, and strong and… Rich and poor, through joy and sor… Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,— In thy place—ah! well-a-day!
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…
Art thou indeed forever gone, Forever, ever, lost to me? Must this poor bosom beat alone, Or beat at all, if not for thee? Ah! why was love to mortals given,
We are as clouds that veil the mid… How restlessly they speed, and gle… Streaking the darkness radiantly!—… Night closes round, and they are l… Or like forgotten lyres, whose dis…