#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Fare thee well! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare thee well: Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared befor…
Parent of golden dreams, Romance! Auspicious Queen of childish joys… Who lead’st along, in airy dance, Thy votive train of girls and boys… At length, in spells no longer bou…
Star of the brave!—whose beam hath… Such glory o’er the quick and dead… Thou radiant and adored deceit! Which millions rush’d in arms to g… Wild meteor of immortal birth;
The world is full of orphans: firs… Who are so in the strict sense of… (But many a lonely tree the loftie… Than others crowded in the forest’… The next are such as are not doome…
Eternal Spirit of the chainless M… Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, t… For there thy habitation is the he… The heart which love of thee alone… And when thy sons to fetters are c…
O ye! who teach the ingenuous yout… Holland, France, England, German… I pray ye flog them upon all occas… It mends their morals, never mind… The best of mothers and of educati…
When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass, And the meteor on the grave, And the wisp on the morass; When the falling stars are shootin…
When, from the heart where Sorrow… Her dusky shadow mounts too high, And o’er the changing aspect flits… And clouds the brow, or fills the… Heed not that gloom, which soon sh…
No breath of air to break the wave That rolls below the Athenian’s g… That tomb which, gleaming o’er the… First greets the homeward-veering… High o’er the land he saved in vai…
THOUGH the day of my destiny’s… And the star of my fate hath decli… Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could fin… Though thy soul with my grief was…
They say that Hope is happiness; But genuine Love must prize the p… And Memory wakes the thoughts tha… They rose the first—they set the l… And all that Memory loves the mos…
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer For other’s weal avail’d on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky. Twere vain to speak, to weep, to s…
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my Highland cav… Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or bounding o’er the dark blue wav… The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride,
Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fi… A million scarce would quench desi… Still would I steep my lips in bl… And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be,
When Bishop Berkeley said “there… And proved it—'twas no matter what… They say his system ‘tis in vain t… Too subtle for the airiest human h… And yet who can believe it! I wou…