#EnglishWriters
Before those cruel twins whom at o… Incestuous Change bore to her fat… Error and Truth, had hunted from… All those bright natures which ado… And left us nothing to believe in,…
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save…
A woodman whose rough heart was ou… (I think such hearts yet never cam… Hated to hear, under the stars or… One nightingale in an interfluous… Satiate the hungry dark with melod…
The fierce beasts of the woods and… Track not the steps of him who dri… For the light breezes, which for e… Around its margin, heap the sand t…
Madonna, wherefore hast thou sent… Sweet-basil and mignonette? Embleming love and health, which n… In the same wreath might be. Alas, and they are wet!
Rome has fallen, ye see it lying Heaped in undistinguished ruin: Nature is alone undying.
O universal Mother, who dost keep From everlasting thy foundations d… Eldest of things, Great Earth, I… All shapes that have their dwellin… All things that fly, or on the gro…
Listen, listen, Mary mine, To the whisper of the Apennine, It bursts on the roof like the thu… Or like the sea on a northern shor… Heard in its raging ebb and flow
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…
Inter marmoreas Leonorae pendula… Fortunata mmis Machina dicit hora… Quas manibus premit ilia duas inse… Cur mihi sit digito tangere, amata…
Hail to thee, Cambria! for the un… Which from thy wilds even now meth… Chasing the clouds that roll in wr… And tightening the soul’s laxest n… True mountain Liberty alone may h…
Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are… Ocean of Time, whose waters of de… Are brackish with the salt of huma… Thou shoreless flood, which in thy… Claspest the limits of mortality!
Fierce roars the midnight storm O’er the wild mountain, Dark clouds the night deform, Swift rolls the fountain— See! o’er yon rocky height,
I dreamed that, as I wandered by… Bare Winter suddenly was changed… And gentle odours led my steps ast… Mixed with a sound of waters murmu… Along a shelving bank of turf, whi…
(With what truth may I say— Roma! Roma! Roma! Non e piu come era prima!) My lost William, thou in whom Some bright spirit lived, and did