#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
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…
Lady. If Love be dead (and you aver it!… Tell me, Bard! where Love lies bu… Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born,
As late each flower that sweetest… I pluck’d, the Garden’s pride! Within the petals of a Rose A sleeping Love I 'spied. Around his brows a beamy wreath
Since all that beat about in Natu… Or veer or vanish; why should’st t… The only constant in a world of ch… O yearning Thought! that liv’st b… Call to the Hours, that in the di…
Sea-ward, white gleaming thro’ the… With arching Wings, the sea-mew o… Posts on, as bent on speed, now pa… Edges the stiffer Breeze, now, yi… Now floats upon the air, and sends…
Much on my early youth I love to… Ere yet I bade that friendly dome… Where first, beneath the echoing c… I heard of guilt and wondered at t… Yet tho’ the hours flew by on care…
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…
‘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…
Underneath an old oak tree There was of swine a huge company That grunted as they crunched the… For that was ripe, and fell full f… Then they trotted away, for the wi…
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.
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fa… Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed… And bade it blossom there.
And in Life’s noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless… The heart’s Self-solace and solil… You mould my Hopes, you fashion m… And to the leading Love-throb in…
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,
And this reft house is that the wh… Lamented Jack! And here his malt… Cautious in vain! These rats that… Squeak, not unconscious of their f… Did ye not see her gleaming thro’…
'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane! (So call him, for so mingling blam… And smiles with anxious looks, his… Masking his birth-name, wont to ch… His wild-wood fancy and impetuous…
