Oft o’er my brain does that strang… Which makes the present (while the… Seem a mere semblance of some unkn… Mixed with such feelings, as perpl… Self-questioned in her sleep: and…
God be with thee, gladsome Ocean! How gladly greet I thee once more… Ships and waves, and ceaseless mot… And men rejoicing on thy shore. Dissuading spake the mild physicia…
Ye Clouds! that far above me floa… Whose pathless march no mortal may… Ye Ocean—Waves! that, wheresoe’er… Yield homage only to eternal laws! Ye Woods! that listen to the nigh…
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!
Never, believe me, Appear the Immortals, Never alone: Scarce had I welcomed the Sorrow-… Iacchus! but in came Boy Cupid th…
How warm this woodland wild Reces… Love surely hath been breathing he… And this sweet bed of heath, my de… Swells up, then sinks with faint c… As if to have you yet more near.
What if you slept And what if In your sleep You dreamed And what if
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,
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,
First Voice ‘But tell me, tell me… Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so f… What is the ocean doing?’ Second Voice ‘Still as a slave be…
All thoughts, all passions, all de… Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I
I sigh, fair injured stranger! for… But what shall sighs avail thee?… ‘Mid all the ’pomp and circumstanc… Shivers in nakedness. Unbidden, s… Sad recollections of Hope’s garis…
O! I do love thee, meek Simplicit… For of thy lays the lulling simple… Goes to my heart, and soothes each… Distress tho’ small, yet haply gre… 'Tis true, on Lady Fortune’s gent…
'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,
Low was our pretty Cot: our talle… Peep’d at the chamber-window. We… At silent noon, and eve, and early… The Sea’s faint murmur. In the op… Our Myrtles blossom’d; and across…