#English #Romanticism
Ere the birth of my life, if I wi… No question was asked me—it could… If the life was the question, a th… And to live on be YES; what can… NATURE’S ANSWER
Now as Heaven is my Lot, they’re… Wherever they can come With clankum and blankum 'Tis all Botheration, & Hell… With fun, jeering
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose,
Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though… He fain would frame a prayer withi… Would fain entreat for some sweet… That his sick body might have ease… He strove in vain! the dull sighs…
'With Donne, whose muse on dromed… Wreathe iron pokers into true-love… Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s ma… Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meanin…
My pensive Sara, thy soft cheek r… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our cot, our cot o’e… With white-flowered jasmine and th… (Meet emblems they of innocence an…
I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel… Than if ’twere Truth. It has been… Must I die under it? Is no one ne… Will no one hear these stifled gro…
With Donne, whose muse on dromeda… Wreathe iron pokers into true—love… Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s ma… Wit’s forge and fire—blast, meanin…
Ah cease thy tears and sobs, my li… I did but snatch away the unclaspe… Some safer toy will soon arrest th… And to quick laughter change this… Poor stumbler on the rocky coast o…
On the wide level of a mountain’s… (I knew not where, but 'twas some… Their pinions, ostrich-like, for s… Two lovely children run an endless… A sister and a brother!
He too has flitted from his secret… Hope’s last and dearest child with… Has flitted from me, like the warm… That makes false promise of a plac… To the tired Pilgrim’s still beli…
Hast thou a charm to stay the morn… In his steep course? So long he s… On thy bald awful head, O sovran… The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most a…
Lines composed while climbing the… With many a pause and oft reverted… I climb the Coomb’s ascent: sweet… Warble in shade their wild-wood me… Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soot…
The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew…
The sole true Something—This! In… It frightens Ghosts as Ghosts her… For skimming in the wake it mock’d… Of the old Boat-God for his Fart… Tho’ Irus’ Ghost itself he ne’er…
