#Couplet #EnglishWriters #Epigram
Her voice did quiver as we parted, Yet knew I not that heart was bro… From which it came, and I departe… Heeding not the words then spoken. Misery—O Misery,
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…
No trump tells thy virtues’the g… With thy dust shall remain unpollu… Till thy foes, by the world and by… Shall pass like a mist from the li… VII.
Extract from Poetical Essay Millions to fight compell’d, to fi… In mangled heaps on War’s red alt… When the legal murders swell the l… When glory’s views the titled idio…
How swiftly through Heaven’s wide… Bright day’s resplendent colours f… How sweetly does the moonbeam’s gl… With silver tint St. Irvyne’s gla… II.
Scene.—Before the Cavern of the… The Enchantress comes forth. Enchantress. He came like a dream in the dawn o… He fled like a shadow before its n…
SCENE.—A Ravine of Icy Rocks i… Prometheus. Monarch of Gods and Dæmons, and a… But One, who throng those bright… Which Thou and I alone of living…
Death is here and death is there, Death is busy everywhere, All around, within, beneath, Above is death—and we are death. II.
And that I walk thus proudly crow… Is that ’tis my distinction; if I… I shall not weep out of the vital… To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull de…
An old, mad, blind, despised, and… Princes, the dregs of their dull r… Through public scorn,—mud from a m… Rulers who neither see nor feel no… But leechlike to their fainting co…
(With what truth may I say— Roma! Roma! Roma! Non e piu come era prima!) My lost William, thou in whom Some bright spirit lived, and did
A gentle story of two lovers young… Who met in innocence and died in s… And of one selfish heart, whose ra… Like curses on them; are ye slow t… The lore of truth from such a tale…
Wake the serpent not’lest he Should not know the way to go,— Let him crawl which yet lies sleep… Through the deep grass of the mead… Not a bee shall hear him creeping,
O Mary dear, that you were here With your brown eyes bright and cl… And your sweet voice, like a bird Singing love to its lone mate In the ivy bower disconsolate;
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered, The rainbow’s glory is shed. When the lute is broken,