#English #XIXCentury
I heard a gentle maiden, in the sp… Set her sweet sighs to music, and… ‘Fly through the world, and I wil… Only for looks that may turn back… ’Only for roses that your chance m…
Is there a bitter pang for love re… O God! The dead love doth not cos… Than the alive, the loving, the be… Not yet, not yet beyond all hopes… Would I were laid
’Twas in that mellow season of the… When the hot sun singes the yellow… Till they be gold,—and with a broa… The Moon looks down on Ceres and… When more abundantly the spider we…
The swallow with summer Will wing o’er the seas, The wind that I sigh to Will visit thy trees. The ship that it hastens
The stars are with the voyager Wherever he may sail; The moon is constant to her time; The sun will never fail; But follow, follow round the world…
’Twas in the prime of summer-time An evening calm and cool, And four-and-twenty happy boys Came bounding out of school: There were some that ran and some…
The lady lay in her bed, Her couch so warm and soft, But her sleep was restless and bro… For turning often and oft From side to side, she mutter’d an…
Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind, And ne’er had seen the skies: For Nature, when his head was mad… Forgot to dot his eyes. So, like a Christmas pedagogue,
By ev’ry sweet tradition of true h… Graven by Time, in love with his… By all old martyrdoms and antique… Wherein Love died to be alive the… Yea, by the sad impression on the…
I had a gig-horse, and I called h… Because on Sundays for a little j… He was so fast and showy, quite a… Although he sometimes kicked and s… I had a chaise, and christened it…
I gaze upon a city,— A city new and strange,— Down many a watery vista My fancy takes a range; From side to side I saunter,
A spade! a rake! a hoe! A pickaxe, or a bill! A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow… A flail, or what ye will— And here’s a ready hand
The curse of Adam, the old curse… Though I inherit in this feverish… Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and… And fruitless thought, in Care’s… Yet more sweet honey than of bitte…
Oh, when I was a tiny boy, My days and nights were full of jo… My mates were blithe and kind!— No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye…
Sigh on, sad heart, for Love’s ec… And Beauty’s fairest queen, Though ’tis not for my peasant lip… To soil her name between: A king might lay his sceptre down,
