#EnglishWriters
Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day
A hater he came and sat by a ditch… And he took an old cracked lute; And he sang a song which was more… ‘Gainst a woman that was a brute.
There was a little lawny islet By anemone and violet, Like mosaic, paven: And its roof was flowers and leave… Which the summer’s breath enweaves…
O mighty mind, in whose deep strea… Shakes like a reed in the unheedin… Why dost thou curb not thine own s…
Death! where is thy victory? To triumph whilst I die, To triumph whilst thine ebon wing Enfolds my shuddering soul? O Death! where is thy sting?
Ye hasten to the grave! What seek… Ye restless thoughts and busy purp… Of the idle brain, which the world… O thou quick heart, which pantest… All that pale Expectation feignet…
The fountains mingle with the rive… And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single;
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…
Once, early in the morning, Beelz… With care his sweet person adornin… He put on his Sunday clothes. II. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof…
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is il… Which severs those it should unite… Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night goo…
How eloquent are eyes! Not the rapt poet’s frenzied lay When the soul’s wildest feelings s… Can speak so well as they. How eloquent are eyes!
... And many there were hurt by that s… His name, they said, was Pleasure… And near him stood, glorious beyon… Four Ladies who possess all emper…
BY MICHING MALLECHO, Esq. Is it a party in a parlour, Crammed just as they on earth were… Some sipping punch-some sipping te… But, as you by their faces see,
From the Greek of Plato. Thou wert the morning star among t… Ere thy fair light had fled;— Now, having died, thou art as Hes… New splendour to the dead.
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…
