#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury #Epigram
From the Greek of Plato. Thou wert the morning star among t… Ere thy fair light had fled;— Now, having died, thou art as Hes… New splendour to the dead.
THE wind has swept from the wide… Each vapour that obscured the suns… And pallid Evening twines its bea… In duskier braids around the langu… Silence and Twilight, unbeloved o…
Silver key of the fountain of tear… Where the spirit drinks till the b… Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a… Is laid asleep in flowers.
Bear witness, Erin! when thine in… Sees summer on its verdant pasture… Its cornfields waving in the winds… The billowy surface of thy circlin… Thou tree whose shadow o’er the A…
The flower that smiles to-day To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
The death knell is ringing The raven is singing The earth worm is creeping The mourners are weeping Ding dong, bell—
Earth, Ocean, Air, belovèd broth… If our great Mother has imbued my… With aught of natural piety to fee… Your love, and recompense the boon… If dewy morn, and odorous noon, an…
A shovel of his ashes took From the hearth’s obscurest nook, Muttering mysteries as she went. Helen and Henry knew that Granny Was as much afraid of Ghosts as a…
Ye hasten to the grave! What seek… Ye restless thoughts and busy purp… Of the idle brain, which the world… O thou quick heart, which pantest… All that pale Expectation feignet…
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it… Who dares arrest the wheels of des… And plunge me in the lowest Hell… Will not the lightning’s blast des… Will not steel drink the blood-lif…
Emily, A ship is floating in the harbour… A wind is hovering o’er the mounta… There is a path on the sea’s azure… No keel has ever plough’d that pat…
Heigho! the lark and the owl! One flies the morning, and one lul… Only the nightingale, poor fond so… Sings like the fool through darkne… ‘A widow bird sate mourning for he…
And the cloven waters like a chasm… Stood, and received him in its mig… And led him through the deep’s u… He went in wonder through the path… Of his great Mother and her humid…
Pan loved his neighbour Echo—but… Of Earth and Air pined for the S… The Satyr loved with wasting madn… The bright nymph Lyda,—and so thr… As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved th…
Honey from silkworms who can gathe… Or silk from the yellow bee? The grass may grow in winter weath… As soon as hate in me. II.