#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
FAME, like a wayward girl, will… To those who woo her with too slav… But makes surrender to some though… And dotes the more upon a heart at… She is a Gipsey,—will not speak t…
Bright star, would I were stedfas… Not in lone splendour hung aloft t… And watching, with eternal lids ap… Like nature’s patient, sleepless… The moving waters at their priestl…
Can death be sleep, when life is b… And scenes of bliss pass as a phan… The transient pleasures as a visio… And yet we think the greatest pain… How strange it is that man on eart…
O thou whose face hath felt the W… Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds… And the black elm tops 'mong the f… To thee the spring will be a harve… O thou, whose only book has been t…
Hither, hither, love — ‘Tis a shady mead — Hither, hither, love! Let us feed and feed! Hither, hither, sweet —
In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them
I had a dove, and the sweet dove d… And I have thought it died of gri… O what could it grieve for? Its f… With a silken thread of my own han… Sweet little red feet! Why would…
He is to weet a melancholy carle: Thin in the waist, with bushy head… As hath the seeded thistle when in… It holds the Zephyr, ere it sende… Its light balloons into the summer…
If by dull rhymes our English mus… And, like Andromeda, the Sonnet s… Fetter’d, in spite of pained lovel… Let us find out, if we must be con… Sandals more interwoven and comple…
Two or three Posies With two or three simples— Two or three Noses With two or three pimples— Two or three wise men
Much have I travell’d in the real… And many goodly states and kingdom… Round many western islands have I… Which bards in fealty to Apollo h… Oft of one wide expanse had I bee…
Give me a golden pen, and let me l… On heaped-up flowers, in regions c… Bring me a tablet whiter than a st… Or hand of hymning angel, when ‘ti… The silver strings of heavenly har…
Four Seasons fill the measure of… There are four seasons in the mind… He has his lusty Spring, when fan… Takes in all beauty with an easy s… He has his Summer, when luxurious…
Shed no tear! O shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year… Weep no more! O weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root’s whi… Dry your eyes! O dry your eyes!
Ah! ken ye what I met the day Out oure the Mountains A coming down by craggi[e]s grey An mossie fountains— A[h] goud hair’d Marie yeve I pra…