#English #Romanticism
All Nature seems at work. Slugs l… The bees are stirring—birds are on… And Winter slumbering in the open… Wears on his smiling face a dream… And I the while, the sole unbusy…
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,
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…
Come, come thou bleak December wi… And blow the dry leaves from the t… Flash, like a Love-thought, thro’… And take a Life that wearies me.
Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet… How many various-fated years have… What happy and what mournful hours… I skimm’d the smooth thin stone al… Numbering its light leaps! yet so…
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
Whom should I choose for my Judge… Who, in the work, forgets me and t… Ye who have eyes to detect, and G… Have you the heart, too, that love… What is the meed of thy Song? 'Ti…
A blessed lot hath he, who having… His youth and early manhood in the… And turmoil of the world, retreats… With cares that move, not agitate… To the same dwelling where his fat…
Spirit who sweepest the wild harp… It is most hard, with an untrouble… Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear… Yet, mine eye fixed on Heaven’s u… Long had I listened, free from mo…
Alas! they had been friends in you… But whispering tongues can poison… And constancy lives in realms abov… And life is thorny; and youth is v… And to be wroth with one we love,
Not always should the tear’s ambro… Roll its soft anguish down thy fur… Not always heaven-breathed tones o… Beseem thee, Mercy! Yon dark Sco… Who with proud words of dear-loved…
Mark this holy chapel well! The birth-place, this, of William… Here, where stands God’s altar dr… Stood his parent’s marriage-bed. II.
Sweet Mercy! how my very heart ha… To see thee, poor old man! and thy… Hoar with the snowy blast; while n… To clothe thy shrivelled limbs and… My Father! throw away this tatter…
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!…
