#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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…
'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;
The fight was o’er; the flashing t… Which robes the cannon as he wings… Had ceased; and sulphury vapours u… Had left the Earth, and but pollu… The rattling roar which rung in ev…
Chill and mirk is the nightly blas… Where Pindus’ mountains rise, And angry clouds are pouring fast The vengeance of the skies. Our guides are gone, our hope is l…
In digging up your bones, Tom Pai… Will. Cobbett has done well: You visit him on earth again, He’ll visit you in hell.
Ambition was my idol, which was br… Before the shrines of Sorrow and… And the two last have left me many… O’er which reflection may be made… Now, like Friar Bacon’s brazen he…
When I hear that you express an a… Ne’er think, my beloved, that I d… For your lip would the soul of sus… And your eye beams a ray which can… Yet, still, this fond bosom regret…
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,
When Time, or soon or late, shall… The dreamless sleep that lulls the… Oblivion! may thy languid wing Wave gently o’er my dying bed! No band of friends or heirs be the…
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…
Kind Reader! take your choice to… Here HAROLD lies, but where’s h… If such you seek, try Westminster… Ten thousand just as fit for him a… Athens
How pleasant were the songs of To… When Summer’s Sun went down the c… Come, let us to the islet’s softes… And hear the warbling birds I the… The wood-dove from the forest dept…
Belshazzar! from the banquet turn, Nor in thy sensual fulness fall; Behold! while yet before thee burn The graven words, the glowing wall… Many a despot men miscall
Your pardon, my friend, if my rhym… Your pardon, a thousand times o’er… From friendship I strove your pan… But, I swear, I will do so no mor… Since your beautiful maid your fla…
And thou wert sad—yet I was not w… And thou wert sick, and yet I was… Methought that joy and health alon… Where I was not—and pain and sorr… And is it thus?—it is as I foreto…
