#EnglishWriters
The fountains mingle with the rive… And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single;
I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I di… To think that a most unambitious s… Like thou, shouldst dance and reve… Of Liberty. Thou mightst have bui… Where it had stood even now: thou…
I rode one evening with Count Mad… Upon the bank of land which breaks… Of Adria towards Venice: a bare s… Of hillocks, heap’d from ever—shif… Matted with thistles and amphibiou…
Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fa… As star-beams among twilight trees… Such lovely ministers to meet
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…
BEST and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorro… Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough Year just awake
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.
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
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 death-bell beats!— The mountain repeats The echoing sound of the knell; And the dark Monk now Wraps the cowl round his brow,
A shovel of his ashes took From the hearth’s obscurest nook, Muttering mysteries as she went. Helen and Henry knew that Granny Was as much afraid of Ghosts as a…
As from an ancestral oak Two empty ravens sound their clari… Yell by yell, and croak by croak, When they scent the noonday smoke Of fresh human carrion:—
Nor happiness, nor majesty, nor fa… Nor peace, nor strength, nor skill… Shepherd those herds whom tyranny… Verse echoes not one beating of th… History is but the shadow of their…
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…
For me, my friend, if not that tea… In my faint eyes, and that my hear… With feelings which make rapture p… Yet, from thy voice that falsehood… I thank thee—let the tyrant keep