#EnglishWriters
Away! the moor is dark beneath the… Rapid clouds have drank the last p… Away! the gathering winds will cal… And profoundest midnight shroud th… Pause not! The time is past! Ever…
Spirit ‘I was an infant when my mother we… To see an atheist burned. She too… The dark-robed priests were met ar… The multitude was gazing silently;
If solitude hath ever led thy step… To the wild ocean’s echoing shore, And thou hast lingered there, Until the sun’s broad orb Seemed resting on the burnished wa…
Thy look of love has power to calm The stormiest passion of my soul; Thy gentle words are drops of balm In life’s too bitter bowl; No grief is mine, but that alone
We meet not as we parted, We feel more than all may see; My bosom is heavy-hearted, And thine full of doubt for me:— One moment has bound the free.
Our boat is asleep on Serchio’s s… Its sails are folded like thoughts… The helm sways idly, hither and th… Dominic, the boatman, has brought… And the oars, and the sails; but ’…
THE world is dreary, And I’m weary Of wandering on without thee, Mar… A joy was erewhile In thy voice and thy smile,
ACCORDING to one mode of regarding those two classes of mental action, which are called reason and imagination, the former may be considered as mind contemplating the relations borne by...
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert, That from Heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditat…
I loved’alas! our life is love; But when we cease to breathe and m… I do suppose love ceases too. I thought, but not as now I do, Keen thoughts and bright of linked…
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Ap… Who wakens with her smile the lull… Of sweet desire, taming the eterna… Of Heaven, and men, and all the l… That fleet along the air, or whom…
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bri… Blue isles and snowy mountains wea… The purple noon’s transparent migh… The breath of the moist earth is l…
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken… Rose leaves, when the rose is dead…
I weep for Adonais—he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our… Thaw not the frost which binds so… And thou, sad Hour, selected from… To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscu…
PEOPLE of England, ye who toil… Who reap the harvests which are no… Who weave the clothes which your o… And for your own take the inclemen… Who build warm houses . . .