#EnglishWriters #Romantic
There was a time, I need not name… Since it will ne’er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the sam… As still my soul hath been to thee… And from that hour when first thy…
Stranger! behold, interr’d togethe… The souls of learning and of leath… Poor Joe is gone, but left his al… You’ll find his relics in a stall. His works were neat, and often fou…
I would to heaven that I were so… As I am blood, bone, marrow, pass… Because at least the past were pas… And for the future - (but I write… Having got drunk exceedingly today…
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of...
'I had rather be a kitten, and cry… Than one of these same metre balla… ‘Such shameless bards we have; and… There are as mad, abandon’d critic… Still must I hear?—shall hoarse F…
'Tu semper amoris Sisd memor, etcari comitis ne absc… Friend of my youth! when young we… Like striplings mutually beloved, With friendship’s purest glow,
Away with your fictions of flimsy… Those tissues of falsehood which… Give me the mild beam of the soul—… Or the rapture which dwells on the… Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with fant…
Sermons he read, and lectures he e… And homilies, and lives of all the… To Jerome and to Chrysostom inure… He did not take such studies for r… But how faith is acquired, and the…
And thou art dead, as young and fa… As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so ra… Too soon return’d to Earth! Though Earth received them in her…
To the tune of ‘Why, how now, sau… Why, how now, saucy Tom? If you thus must ramble, I will publish some Remarks on Mister Campbell.
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’…
Which, in the Arabic language, is… THE Moorish King rides up and do… Through Granada’s royal town; From Elvira’s gate to those Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the ti… Patron and publisher of rhymes, For thee the bard up Pindus climb… My Murray. To thee, with hope and terror dumb…
The roses of Love glad the garden… Though nurtur’d 'mid weeds droppin… Till Time crops the leaves with u… Or prunes them for ever, in Love’… In vain, with endearments, we soot…
Oh Lady! when I left the shore, The distant shore which gave me bi… I hardly thought to grieve once mo… To quit another spot on earth: Yet here, amidst this barren isle,
