#Couplet #EnglishWriters #Epigram
Shall we roam, my love, To the twilight grove, When the moon is rising bright; Oh, I’ll whisper there, In the cool night-air,
Swift as a spirit hastening to his… Of glory & of good, the Sun spran… Rejoicing in his splendour, & the… Of darkness fell from the awakened… The smokeless altars of the mounta…
Is not to-day enough? Why do I pe… Into the darkness of the day to co… Is not to-morrow even as yesterday… And will the day that follows chan… Few flowers grow upon thy wintry w…
Hark! the owlet flaps her wing, In the pathless dell beneath, Hark! night ravens loudly sing, Tidings of despair and death.— Horror covers all the sky,
Many a green isle needs must be In the deep wide sea of Misery, Or the mariner, worn and wan, Never thus could voyage on Day and night, and night and day,
Thou wert not, Cassius, and thou… Last of the Romans, though thy me… From Brutus his own glory—and on… Rests the full splendour of his sa… Nor he who dared make the foul tyr…
As I lay asleep in Italy There came a voice from over the… And with great power it forth led… To walk in the visions of Poesy. I met Murder on the way—
The stars may dissolve, and the fo… May sink into ne’er ending chaos a… Our mansions must fall, and earth… But thy courage O Erin! may never… See! the wide wasting ruin extends…
The spider spreads her webs, wheth… In poet’s tower, cellar, or barn,… The silk-worm in the dark green mu… His winding sheet and cradle ever… So I, a thing whom moralists call…
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets’ food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they,
Thy look of love has power to calm The stormiest passion of my soul; Thy gentle words are drops of balm In life’s too bitter bowl; No grief is mine, but that alone
Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom Gods and men and beasts have birth… Leaf and blade, and bud and blosso… Breathe thine influence most divin…
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…
THE world is dreary, And I’m weary Of wandering on without thee, Mar… A joy was erewhile In thy voice and thy smile,
ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Ch… SCENE. The Shore of the Lake o… HELEN Come hither, my sweet Rosalind. 'T is long since thou and I have…