#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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…
Fierce roars the midnight storm O’er the wild mountain, Dark clouds the night deform, Swift rolls the fountain— See! o’er yon rocky height,
Hail to thee, Cambria! for the un… Which from thy wilds even now meth… Chasing the clouds that roll in wr… And tightening the soul’s laxest n… True mountain Liberty alone may h…
’Twas dead of the night when I sa… One glimmering lamp was expiring a… Around the dark tide of the tempes… Along the wild mountains night-rav… They bodingly presaged destruction…
‘Do you not hear the Aziola cry? Methinks she must be nigh,’ Said Mary, as we sate In dusk, ere stars were lit, or ca… And I, who thought
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…
WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken,
The season was the childhood of sw… Whose sunny hours from morning unt… Went creeping through the day with… Each with its load of pleasure; sl… Like the long years of blest Eter…
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…
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once… To the bright Sun, thy hymn of mu… Whom to the child of star-clad He… Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, bro… Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair
‘Here lieth One whose name was wr… But, ere the breath that could era… Death, in remorse for that fell sl… Death, the immortalizing winter, f… Athwart the stream,—and time’s pri…
Oh! take the pure gem to where sou… Waft repose to some bosom as faith… In which the warm current of love… As it rises unmingled with selfish… Which, untainted by pride, unpollu…
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save…
O that a chariot of cloud were min… Of cloud which the wild tempest we… When the moon over the ocean’s lin… Is spreading the locks of her brig… O that a chariot of cloud were min…
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…