#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
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…
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…
'Tis sweet to him, who all the wee… Through city-crowds must push his… To stroll alone through fields and… And hallow thus the Sabbath-day. And sweet it is, in summer bower,
[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…
Sandoval. You loved the daughter… Earl Henry. Loved? Sandoval. Did you not say you woo… Earl Henry. Once I loved Her whom I dared not woo!
Water and windmills, greenness, I… Willows whose Trunks beside the s… Of their own higher half, and will… Farmhouses that at anchor seem’d—i… The fog-transfixing Spires—
Where graced with many a classic s… Cam rolls his reverend stream alon… I haste to urge the learned toil That sternly chides my love-lorn s… Ah me! too mindful of the days
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…
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!…
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…
Scene—A spacious drawing-room, wi… Katharine. What are the words? Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improv… to ask of you, Sir ; it is that yo… sweetly.
When faint and sad o’er sorrow’s d… Slow journeys onward poor misfortu… When fades each lovely form by fan… And inly pines the self-consuming… (No scourge of scorpions in thy ri…
It was some spirit, Sheridan! tha… O’er thy young mind such wildly-va… My soul hath marked thee in her sh… Thy temples with Hymettian flowre… And sweet thy voice, as when o’er…
‘I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and b… As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye…
The Scene a desolate Tract in la… lying on the ground; to her enter… Fam. Sister! sisters! who sent yo… Slau. [to Fire.] I will whisper i… Fire. No! no! no!
