#English #Romanticism
At midnight by the stream I roved… To forget the form I loved. Image of Lewti! from my mind Depart; for Lewti is not kind. The Moon was high, the moonlight…
Poor little Foal of an oppressed… I love the languid patience of thy… And oft with gentle hand I give t… And clap thy ragged coat, and pat… But what thy dulled spirits hath d…
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…
Though friendships differ endless… The sorts, methinks, may be reduc… Ac quaintance many, and Con quai… But for In quaintance I know onl… The friend I’ve mourned with, and…
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…
Well, they are gone, and here must… This lime-tree bower my prison! I… Beauties and feelings, such as wou… Most sweet to my remembrance even… Had dimm’d mine eyes to blindness!…
My eyes make pictures when they’re… I see a fountain large and fair, A Willow and a ruined Hut, And thee, and me, and Mary there. O Mary! make thy gentle lap our p…
And this reft house is that the wh… Lamented Jack! And here his malt… Cautious in vain! These rats that… Squeak, not unconscious of their f… Did ye not see her gleaming thro’…
My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek r… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white—flowered Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
[exerpt] Of late, in one of those most wear… When life seems emptied of all gen… A dready mood, which he who ne’er… May bless his happy lot, I sate a…
From a letter from STC to Wordsw… In stale blank verse a subject sta… I send per post my Nightingale; And like an honest bard, dear Wor… You’ll tell me what you think, my…
As late I lay in Slumber’s shadow… With wetted cheek and in a mourner… I saw the sainted form of FREE… She spake! not sadder moans the au… 'Great Son of Genius! sweet to me…
Mild Splendor of the various-vest… Mother of wildly-working visions!… I watch thy gliding, while with wa… Thy weak eye glimmers through a fl… And when thou lovest thy pale orb…
From his brimstone bed at break of… A walking the DEVIL is gone, To visit his little snug farm of t… And see how his stock went on. Over the hill and over the dale,
Dim hour! that sleep’st on pillowi… O rise and yoke the turtles to thy… Bend o’er the traces, blame each l… And give me to the bosom of my lov… My gentle love, caressing and care…
