#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
Away, those cloudy looks, that lab… The peevish offspring of a sickly… Nor meanly thus complain of fortun… When the blind gamester throws a l… Yon setting sun flashes a mournful…
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…
It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glitte… Now wherefore stopp’st thou me? The Bridegroom’s doors are opened…
The piteous sobs that choke the V… For him, the fair betrothed Youth… Cold in the narrow dwelling, or th… With which a Mother wails her Dar… These from our Nature’s common im…
Come hither, gently rowing, Come, bear me quickly o’er This stream so brightly flowing To yonder woodland shore. But vain were my endeavour
I know ‘tis but a Dream, yet feel… Than if ’twere Truth. It has been… Must I die under it? Is no one ne… Will no one hear these stifled gro…
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,
Once more, sweet stream! with slow… I bless thy milky waters cold and… Escaped the flashing of the noonti… With one fresh garland of Pierian… (Ere from thy zephyr-haunted brink…
'Tis the middle of night by the ca… And the owls have awakened the cro… Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! And hark, again! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew.
Stop, Christian passer—by!—Stop,… And read with gentle breast. Bene… A poet lies, or that which once se… O, lift one thought in prayer for… That he who many a year with toil…
(Act V, scene i) And this place our forefathers mad… This is the process of our Love a… To each poor brother who offends a… Most innocent, perhaps—and what if…
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…
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…
When youth his fairy reign began, Ere sorrow had proclaimed me man; While peace the present hour begui… And all the lovely prospect smiled… Then, Mary! 'mid my lightsome gle…
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…
