#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
In thee I fondly hoped to clasp A friend whom death alone could se… Till envy, with malignant grasp, Detach’d thee from my breast for e… True, she has forced thee from my…
This day, of all our days, has don… The worst for me and you:- 'Tis just six years since we were… And five since we were two.
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…
The spell is broke; the charm is f… Thus is it with life’s fitful feve… We madly smile when we should groa… Delirium is our best deceiver. Each lucid interval of thought
Woman! experience might have told… That all must love thee who behold… Surely experience might have taugh… Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms befo…
‘It is the voice of years that are… they roll before me with all their… Newstead! fast-falling, once-respl… Religion’s shrine! repentant HE… Of warriors, monks, and dames the…
Posterity will ne’er survey A nobler grave than this: Here lie the bones of Castlereagh… Stop, traveler—
Were my bosom as false as thou dee… I need not have wander’d from far… It was but abjuring my creed to ef… The curse which, thou say’st, is t… If the bad never triumph, then Go…
In digging up your bones, Tom Pai… Will. Cobbett has done well: You visit him on earth again, He’ll visit you in hell.
He who sublime in epic numbers rol… And he who struck the softer lyre… By Death’s unequal hand alike con… Fit comrades in Elysian regions m…
My sister! my sweet sister! if a n… Dearer and purer were, it should b… Mountains and seas divide us, but… No tears, but tenderness to answer… Go where I will, to me thou art t…
CLXXVIII. There is a pleasure in the pathles… There is a rapture on the lonely s… There is society where none intrud… By the deep Sea, and music in its…
If, for silver or for gold, You could melt ten thousand pimple… Into half a dozen dimples, Then your face we might behold, Looking, doubtless, much more snug…
When, to their airy hall, my fathe… Shall call my spirit, joyful in th… When, poised upon the gale, my for… Or, dark in mist, descend the moun… Oh! may my shade behold no sculptu…
Oh! could Le Sage’s demon’s gift Be realized at my desire, This night my trembling form he’d… To place it on St. Mary’s spire. Then would, unroof’d, old Granta’…
