#EnglishWriters #Romantic
'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;
As the Liberty lads o’er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply,… So we, boys, we Will die fighting, or live free, And down with all kings but King…
In moments to delight devoted, ‘My life!’ with tenderest tone you… Dear words! on which my heart had… If youth could neither fade nor di… To death even hours like these mus…
You have ask’d for a verse:—the re… In a rhymer 'twere strange to deny… But my Hippocrene was but my brea… And my feelings (its fountain) are… Were I now as I was, I had sung
The Moorish King rides up and dow… Through Granada’s royal town; From Elvira’s gate to those Of Bivarambla on he goes. Woe is me, Alhama!
The following iiliberal imprompt… 'Our nation’s foes lament on Fox’… But bless the hour when PITT res… These feelings wide, let sense and… We give the palm where Justice po…
If, in the month of dark December… Leander, who was nightly wont (What maid will not the tale remem… To cross thy stream, broad Helles… If, when the wintry tempest roar’d…
Ah! gentle, fleeting, wav’ring spr… Friend and associate of this clay! To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou now wing thy distant fli… No more with wonted humour gay,
Here once engaged the stranger’s v… Young Friendship’s record simply… Few were her words; but yet, thoug… Resentment’s hand the line defaced… Deeply she cut—but not erased,
Oh, Mariamne! now for thee The heart of which thou bled’st is… Revenge is lost in agony, And wild remorse to rage succeedin… Oh, Mariamne! where art thou?
She walks in beauty, like the nigh… Of cloudless climes and starry ski… And all that’s best of dark and br… Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Once fairly set out on his party o… Taking towns at his liking, and cr… From Elba to Lyons and Paris he… Making balls for the ladies, and b…
I speak not, I trace not, I breat… There is grief in the sound, there… But the tear that now burns on my… The deep thoughts that dwell in th… Too brief for our passion, too lon…
My dear Mr. Murray, You’re in a damn 'd hurry, To set up this ultimate Canto; But (if they don’t rob us) You’ll see Mr. Hobhouse
Eliza, what fools are the Mussulm… Who to woman deny the soul’s futur… Could they see thee, Eliza, they’… And this doctrine would meet with… Had their prophet possess’d half a…