#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
The town was taken—whether he migh… Himself or bastion, little matter’… His stubborn valour was no future… Ismail’s no more! The Crescent’s… Sunk, and the crimson Cross glar’…
Bob Southey! You’re a poet—Poet-… And representative of all the race… Although 'tis true that you turn’d… Last—yours has lately been a commo… And now, my Epic Renegade! what a…
My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But before I go, Tom Moore, Here’s a double health to thee! Here’s a sigh to those who love me…
"The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into the heart of the Morea, and to form the siege of Napoli di Romania, the most considerab...
The chain I gave was fair to view… The lute I added sweet in sound; The heart that offer’d both was tr… And ill deserved the fate it found… These gifts were charm’d by secret…
When the vain triumph of the imper… Whom servile Rome obey’d, and yet… Gave to the vulgar gaze each glori… That left a likeness of the brave… What most admired each scrutinisin…
‘And Ireland, like a bastinadoed… kneeling to receive the paltry rid… Ere the daughter of Brunswick is… And her ashes still float to their… Lo! George the triumphant speeds…
To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have… Though Beauty long hath there bee… Not in those visions to the heart… Forms which it sighs but to have o…
Farewell to the Land where the gl… Arose and o’ershadow’d the earth w… She abandons me now—but the page o… The brightest or blackest, is fill… I have warr’d with a world which v…
'OH! banish care’—such ever be The motto of thy revelry! Perchance of mine, when wassail ni… Renew those riotous delights, Wherewith the children of Despair
’TIS done—but yesterday a King! And arm’d with Kings to strive— And now thou art a nameless thing: So abject—yet alive! Is this the man of thousand throne…
Hills of Annesley, bleak and barr… Where my thoughtless childhood str… How the northern tempests, warring… Howl above thy tufted shade! Now no more, the hours beguiling,
Thy days are done, thy fame begun; Thy country’s strains record The triumphs of her chosen Son, The slaughter of his sword! The deeds he did, the fields he wo…
‘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…
When fierce conflicting urge The breast where love is wont to g… What mind can stem the stormy surg… Which rolls the tide of human woe? The hope of praise, the dread of s…
