#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury #Desire #Love
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 each flower that sweetest… I pluck’d, the Garden’s pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I 'spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath
My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek… Thus on mine arm, most soothing sw… To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o’… With white-flower’d Jasmin, and t… (Meet emblems they of Innocence a…
Thicker than rain-drops on Novemb…
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…
Cupid, if storying legends tell ar… Once framed a rich elixer of delig… A chalice o’er love-kindled flames… And in it nectar and ambrosia mixe… With these the magic dews which ev…
As some vast Tropic tree, itself… That crests its Head with clouds,… Feeds its deep roots, and with the… Of its wide base controls the fron… (By the slant current’s pressure s…
Tell me, on what holy ground May domestic peace be found? Halcyon daughter of the skies, Far on fearful wing she flies, From the pomp of scepter’d state,
Verse, a breeze mid blossoms stray… Where Hope clung feeding, like a… Both were mine! Life went a—mayin… With Nature, Hope, and Poesy, When I was young!
Beneath the blaze of a tropical su… Frost, through the absence of obje… with us shares, seems scarce our o… The best belov’d, who loveth me th… is for the heart, what the support…
The Moon, how definite its orb! Yet gaze again, and with a steady… 'Tis there indeed,—but where is it… It is suffused o’er all the sapphi… Trees, herbage, snake—like stream,…
Edmund! thy grave with aching eye… And inly groan for heaven’s poor o… 'Tis tempest all or gloom: in earl… If gifted with the Ithuriel lance… We force to start amid her feigned…
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…
In Köhln, a town of monks and bon… And pavements fang’d with murderou… And rags, and hags, and hideous we… I counted two and seventy stenches… All well defined, and several stin…
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…
