#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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…
Adieu, ye joys of La Valette! Adieu, sirocco, sun, and sweat! Adieu, thou palace rarely enter’d! Adieu, ye mansions where I’ve ven… Adieu, ye cursed streets of stairs…
WHERE are those honours, Ida! o… When Probus fill’d your magisteri… As ancient Rome, fast falling to… Hail’d a barbarian in her Cæsar’s… So you, degenerate, share as hard…
When amatory poets sing their love… In liquid lines mellifluously blan… And pair their rhymes as Venus yo… They little think what mischief is… The greater their success the wors…
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…
When Thurlow this damn’d nonsense… (I hope I am not violent), Nor men nor gods knew what he mean… And since not even our Rogers’ pr… To common sense his thoughts could…
Oh, Castlereagh! thou art a patri… Cato died for his country, so dids… He perish’d rather than see Rome… Thou cutt’ st thy throat that Bri… So Castlereagh has cut his throat…
One struggle more, and I am free From pangs that rend my heart in t… One last long sigh to love and the… Then back to busy life again. It suits me well to mingle now
THE isles of Greece! the isles o… Where burning Sappho loved and su… Where grew the arts of war and pea… Where Delos rose, and Phoebus spr… Eternal summer gilds them yet,
Thou art not false, but thou art f… To those thyself so fondly sought; The tears that thou hast forced to… Are doubly bitter from that though… 'Tis this which breaks the heart t…
Is thy face like thy mother’s, my… Ada! sole daughter of my house and… When last I saw thy young blue ey… And then we parted,—not as now we… But with a hope.—
Her eye (I’m very fond of handsom… Was large and dark, suppressing ha… Until she spoke, then through its… Flash’d an expression more of prid… And love than either; and there wo…
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 receiv’d them in her…
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’…
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…
