#EnglishWriters
Not unfamiliar to mine ear, Blasts of the night! ye howl as no… My shuddering casement loud With fitful force ye beat. Mine ear has dwelt in silent awe,
Thou base repiner at another’s joy… Whose eye turns green at merit not… Oh, far away from generous Briton… And find on meaner climes a fitter… Away, away, it shall not be,
The morning sun’s enchanting rays Now call forth every songster’s pr… Now the lark, with upward flight, Gaily ushers in the light; While wildly warbling from each tr…
When twilight steals along the gro… And all the bells are ringing roun… One, two, three, four, and five, I at my study window sit, And, wrapp’d in many a musing fit,
Yet once more, and once more, awak… From silence and neglect-one lofty… Lofty, yet wilder than the winds o… And speaking mysteries more than w… I ask of thee; for I, with hymnin…
Oh, Warton! to thy soothing shell… Stretch’d remote in hermit cell, Where the brook runs babbling by, For ever I could listening lie; And catching all the muses’ fire,
As thus oppressed with many a heav… (Though young yet sorrowful), I t… To the dark woodland, longing much… The form of peace, if chance she s… Deep thought and dismal, verging t…
The night it was still, and the mo… Serenely on the sea, And the waves at the foot of the r… They murmur’d pleasantly, When Gondoline roam’d along the s…
Fast from the west the fading day-… And ebon Night assumes her solemn… Yet here alone, unheeding time, I… And o’er my friend still pour the… Oh! ’tis not long since, George,…
Yet once again, my Harp, yet once… One ditty more, and on the mountai… I will again suspend thee. I have… The warm tear frequent on my cheek… At eventide, when all the winds we…
Oft in sorrow, oft in woe, Onward, Christians, onward go; Fight the fight, maintain the stri… Strengthened with the bread of lif… Let your drooping hearts be glad;
Sublime, emerging from the misty v… Of the horizon dim, thee, Moon, I… As, sweeping o’er the leafless gro… Seems to repeat the year’s funerea… Now Autumn sickens on the languid…
Hence to thy darkest shades, dire… Thine icy touch can freeze, Swift as the Polar breeze The proud defying port of human se… Hence to thine Indian cave,
When the winter wind whistles alon… And the cottager shuts on the begg… When the chilling tear stands in m… Oh, how hard is the lot of the Wa… The winter is cold, and I have no…
Sweet scented flower! who art wont… On January’s front severe, And o’er the wintry desert drear To waft thy waste perfume! Come, thou shalt form my nosegay n…