#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have… Though Beauty long hath there bee… Not in those visions to the heart… Forms which it sighs but to have o…
THE isles of Greece! the isles o… Where burning Sappho loved and su… Where grew the arts of war and pea… Where Delos rose, and Phoebus spr… Eternal summer gilds them yet,
It is the hour when from the bough… The nightingale’s high note is hea… It is the hour when lovers’ vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word… And gentle winds, and waters near,
'Tis done! - I saw it in my dream… No more with Hope the future beam… My days of happiness are few: Chill’d by misfortune’s wintry bla… My dawn of life is overcast;
I saw thee weep—the big bright tea… Came o’er that eye of blue; And then methought it did appear A violet dropping dew: I saw thee smile—the sapphire’s bl…
Let Folly smile, to view the name… Of thee and me in friendship twine… Yet Virtue will have greater clai… To love, than rank with vice combi… And though unequal is thy fate,
I wish to tune my quivering lyre To deed of fame and notes of fire; To echo, from its rising swell, How heroes fought and nations fell… When Atreus’ sons advanced to war…
This Band, which bound thy yellow… Is mine, sweet girl! Thy pledge o… It claims my warmest, dearest care… Like relics left of saints above. Oh! I will wear it next my heart;
No specious splendour of this ston… Endears it to my memory ever; With lustre only once it shone, And blushes modest as the giver. Some, who can sneer at friendship’…
To hook the reader, you, John Mur… Have publish’d 'Anjou’s Margaret, Which won’t be sold off in a hurry (At least, it has not been as yet)… And then, still further to bewilde…
If from great nature’s or our own… Of thought we could but snatch a c… Perhaps mankind might find the pat… But then 'twould spoil much good p… One system eats another up, and th…
The harp the monarch minstrel swep… The King of men, the loved of Hea… Which Music hallow’d while she we… O’er tones her heart of hearts had… Redoubled be her tears, its chords…
Dorset! whose early steps with min… Exploring every path of Ida’s gla… Whom still affection taught me to… And made me less a tyrant than a f… Though the harsh custom of our you…
Sweet girl! though only once we me… That meeting I shall ne’er forget… And though we ne’er may meet again… Remembrance will thy form retain. I would not say, ‘I love,’ but st…
Doubtless, sweet girl! the hissing… Wafting destruction o’er thy charm… And hurtling o’er thy lovely head, Has fill’d that breast with fond a… Surely some envious demon’s force,