#EnglishWriters
If solitude hath ever led thy step… To the wild ocean’s echoing shore, And thou hast lingered there, Until the sun’s broad orb Seemed resting on the burnished wa…
Bright ball of flame that through… Silently takest thine aethereal wa… And with surpassing glory dimm’st… Twinkling amid the dark blue depth… Unlike the fire thou bearest, soon…
My head is heavy, my limbs are wea… And it is not life that makes me m…
The sun is set; the swallows are a… The bats are flitting fast in the… The slow soft toads out of damp co… And evening’s breath, wandering he… Over the quivering surface of the…
It was a bright and cheerful after… Towards the end of the sunny month… When the north wind congregates in… The floating mountains of the silv… From the horizon—and the stainless…
Silence! Oh, well are Death and… Three brethren named, the guardian… Of one abyss, where life, and trut… Are swallowed up—yet spare me, Sp… Until the sounds I hear become my…
I dreamed that, as I wandered by… Bare Winter suddenly was changed… And gentle odours led my steps ast… Mixed with a sound of waters murmu… Along a shelving bank of turf, whi…
ONE word is too often profaned For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdain’d For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faith and empir…
The warm sun is falling, the bleak… The bare boughs are sighing, the p… And the Year On the earth is her death-bed, in… Is lying.
Those whom nor power, nor lying fa… Nor custom, queen of many slaves,… Have ever grieved that man should… Of his own weakness, and with earn… Fed hopes of its redemption; these…
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,
One sung of thee who left the tale… Like the false dawns which perish… Like empty cups of wrought and dae… Which mock the lips with air, when…
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…
Flourishing vine, whose kindling c… Beneath the autumnal sun, none tas… For thou dost shroud a ruin, and b… The rotting bones of dead antiquit…
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