#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #XVIIICentury
'And hail the chapel! hail the pla… Where Tell directed the avenging… With well-strung arm, that first p… Then aimed the arrow at the tyrant… Splendor’s fondly fostered child!
It may indeed be phantasy, when I Essay to draw from all created thi… Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that c… And trace in leaves and flowers th… Lessons of love and earnest piety.
Mild Splendor of the various-vest… Mother of wildly-working visions!… I watch thy gliding, while with wa… Thy weak eye glimmers through a fl… And when thou lovest thy pale orb…
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…
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fa… Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed… And bade it blossom there.
Like a lone Arab, old and blind, Some caravan had left behind, Who sits beside a ruin’d well, Where the shy sand-asps bask and s… And now he hangs his ag{'e}d head…
Thus far my scanty brain hath buil… Elaborate and swelling; Â yet the… Not owns it. From thy spirit-brea… I ask not now, my friend! the aidi… Tedious to thee, and from thy anxi…
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…
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798 No cloud, no relique of the sunken… Distinguishes the West, no long t… Of sullen light, no obscure trembl… Come, we will rest on this old mos…
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…
... Finally, what is Reason? You… answer:— Whene’er the mist, that stands 'tw… [Sublimates] to a pure transparenc… That intercepts no light and adds…
On the wide level of a mountain’s… (I knew not where, but 'twas some… Their pinions, ostrich-like, for s… Two lovely children run an endless… A sister and a brother!
This Sycamore, oft musical with b… Such tents the Patriarchs loved!… May all its agèd boughs o’er—canop… The small round basin, which this… Keeps pure from falling leaves! L…
Maid of my love! sweet Genevieve! In beauty’s light you glide along; Your eye is like the star of eve, And sweet your voice, as seraph’s… Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
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.
