#Romantic
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.
“Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and lookt into my eye… “A yes, a yes, to both: for Memor… Where you but once have been must…
The Gadite men the royal charge o… Now fragments weighed up from th’… Leave the ground black beneath; ag… Shines into what were porches, and… Once warm with frequentation—clien…
Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath some cool syringa’s scente… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of Moral, where the Drago…
Mild is the parting year, and swee… The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its glo…
HERE, ever since you went abroad… If there be change no change I se… I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walk’d by me. Yes; I forgot; a change there is—
THERE is a mountain and a wood b… Where the lone shepherd and late b… Morning and noon and eventide repa… Between us now the mountain and th… Seem standing darker than last yea…
Memory! thou hidest from me far, Hidest behind some twinkling star Which peers o’er Pindus, or whose… Crosses that broad and rapid strea… Where Zeus in wily whiteness shon…
Damaetas is a boy as rue As ever broke maid’s solitude. He watcht the little Ida going Where the wood—raspberries were gr… And, under a pretence of fear
Avon! why runnest thou away so fas… Rest thee before that Chance! whe… The bones of him whose spirit move… I have beheld thy birthplace, I h… Thy tiny ripples where they played…
YES; I write verses now and then… But blunt and flaccid is my pen, No longer talk’d of by young men As rather clever; In the last quarter are my eyes,
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…
Lately our poets loiter’d in green… Content to catch the ballads of th… I fancied I had strength enough t… A loftier station at no distant ti… And might securely from intrusion…
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…
