#Romantic
FATHER! the little girl we see Is not, I fancy, so like me; You never hold her on your knee. When she came home, the other day, You kiss’d her; but I cannot say
O’erfoaming with rage The foul—mouth’d judge Page Thus question’d a thief in the doc… “Didst never hear read In the church, lump of lead!
What mortal first by adverse fate… Trampled by tyranny or scoffed by… Stung by remorse or wrung by pover… Bade with fond sigh his native lau… Wretched! but tenfold wretched who…
There is delight in singing, tho’… Beside the singer; and there is de… In praising, tho’ the praiser sit… And see the prais’d far off him, f… Shakspeare is not our poet, but th…
The leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture… So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird
Death stands above me, whispering… I know not what into my ear: Of his strange language all I kno… Is, there is not a word of fear.
An ancient chestnut’s blossoms thr… Their heavy odour over two: Leucippe, it is said, was one; The other, then, was Alciphron. ‘Come, come! why should we stand b…
The Year’s twelve daughters had i… Of measured pace tho’ varying mien… Some froward, some sedater, some a… For festival, some reckless of att… The snow had left the mountain—top…
Now to Aurora borne by dappled st… The sacred gate of orient pearl an… Smitten with Lucifer’s light silv… Expanded slow to strains of harmon… The waves beneath in purpling rows…
RHAICOS was born amid the hills… Gnidos the light of Caria is disc… And small are the white—crested th… And smaller onward are the purple… Thence festal choirs were visible,…
Twenty years hence my eyes may gro… If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall… Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may h…
IS it not better at an early hour In its calm cell to rest the weary… While birds are singing and while… Than sit the fire out and go starv…
Past ruined Ilion Helen lives, Alcestis rises from the shades. Verse calls them forth; 'tis verse… Immortal youth to mortal maids. Soon shall oblivion’s deepening ve…
WHERE art thou gone, light-ankle… With wing at either shoulder, And smile that never left thy mout… Until the Hours grew colder: Then somewhat seem’d to whisper ne…
Yes, in this chancel once we sat a… O Dorothea! thou wert bright with… Freshness like Morning’s dwelt up… While here and there above the lev… Above the housings of the village…
