#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
Whom the untaught Shepherds call Pixies in their madrigal, Fancy’s children, here we dwell: Welcome, Ladies! to our cell. Here the wren of softest note
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,
Pale Roamer thro’ the Night! thou… Remorse that man on his death-bed… Who in the credulous hour of tende… Betrayed, then cast thee forth to… The World is pityless; the Chaste…
How long will ye round me be swell… O ye blue-tumbling waves of the se… Not always in caves was my dwellin… Nor beneath the cold blast of the… Thro’ the high-sounding halls of…
Oh! not by Cam or Isis, famous st… In arched groves, the youthful poe… Nor while half-listening, mid deli… To harp and song from lady’s hand… Nor yet while gazing in sublimer m…
Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave? I said, you had no soul, ‘tis true… For what you are, you cannot have: ’Tis I, that have one since I fir… I have heard of reasons manifold
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!…
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…
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…
Schiller! that hour I would have… If thro’ the shudd’ring midnight… From the dark Dungeon of the Towe… That fearful voice, a famished Fa… That in no after moment aught less…
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philom… How many Bards in city garret pen… While at their window they with do… Mark the faint lamp-beam on the ke… And listen to the drowsy cry of W…
Notus in fratres animi paterni. Hor. Carm. lib.II.2. A blesséd lot hath he, who having… His youth and early manhood in the… And turmoil of the world, retreats…
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
No more ‘twixt conscience staggeri… Soon shall I now before my God ap… By him to be acquitted, as I hope… By him to be condemned, as I fear… REFLECTION ON THE ABOVE
It may indeed be phantasy, when I Essay to draw from all created thi… Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that c… And trace in leaves and flowers th… Lessons of love and earnest piety.
