#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
A pale Dream came to a Lady fair, And said, A boon, a boon, I pray! I know the secrets of the air, And things are lost in the glare o… Which I can make the sleeping see…
I weep for Adonais –he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our t… Thaw not the frost which binds so… And thou, sad Hour, selected from… To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscu…
Such hope, as is the sick despair… Such fear, as is the certainty of… Such doubt, as is pale Expectatio… Turned while she tastes to poison,… Is powerless, and the spirit...
Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep, Have they the Bromian drink from the vine’s stream? What, ho! assistance, comrades, haste, assistance! Or boiled and seethed within...
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…
O Wild West Wind, thou breath of… Thou, from whose unseen presence t… Are driven, like ghosts from an en… Yellow, and black, and pale, and h… Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O…
I loved’alas! our life is love; But when we cease to breathe and m… I do suppose love ceases too. I thought, but not as now I do, Keen thoughts and bright of linked…
Lift not the painted veil which th… Call Life: though unreal shapes b… And it but mimic all we would beli… With colours idly spread,—behind,… And Hope, twin Destinies; who eve…
Here, my dear friend, is a new boo… I have already dedicated two To other friends, one female and o… What you are, is a thing that I m… What can this be to those who prai…
The fountains mingle with the rive… And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single;
Away! the moor is dark beneath the… Rapid clouds have drank the last p… Away! the gathering winds will cal… And profoundest midnight shroud th… Pause not! The time is past! Ever…
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,
Art thou indeed forever gone, Forever, ever, lost to me? Must this poor bosom beat alone, Or beat at all, if not for thee? Ah! why was love to mortals given,
FIRST SPIRIT O thou, who plum’d with strong des… Wouldst float above the earth, bew… A Shadow tracks thy flight of fir… Night is coming!
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…
