#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Come, thou awakener of the spirit’… Zephyr, whom to thy cloud or cave No thought can trace! speed with t…
‘Buona notte, buona notte!’—Come… La notte sara buona senza te? Non dirmi buona notte,—che tu sai, La notte sa star buona da per se. II.
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!
I met a traveller from an antique… Who said—“Two vast and trunkless… Stand in the desert... Near them,… Half sunk a shattered visage lies,… And wrinkled lip, and sneer of col…
The Elements respect their Maker’… Still Like the scathed pine tree’… Braving the tempests of the night Have I 'scaped the flickering fla… Like the scathed pine, which a mon…
Like the ghost of a dear friend de… Is Time long past. A tone which is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last,
Those whom nor power, nor lying fa… Nor custom, queen of many slaves,… Have ever grieved that man should… Of his own weakness, and with earn… Fed hopes of its redemption; these…
DRAMATIS PERSONÃ Count Francesco Cenci. Giacomo, his Son. Bernardo, his Son. Cardinal Camillo.
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 ’…
Vessels of heavenly medicine! may… Auspicious waft your dark green fo… Safe may ye stem the wide surround… Of the wild whirlwinds and the rag… And oh! if Liberty e’er deigned t…
So now my summer task is ended, M… And I return to thee, mine own he… As to his Queen some victor Knigh… Earning bright spoils for her inch… Nor thou disdain, that ere my fame…
Bright ball of flame that through… Silently takest thine aethereal wa… And with surpassing glory dimm’st… Twinkling amid the dark blue depth… Unlike the fire thou bearest, soon…
Moonbeam, leave the shadowy vale, To bathe this burning brow. Moonbeam, why art thou so pale, As thou walkest o’er the dewy dale… Where humble wild-flowers grow?
It lieth, gazing on the midnight s… Upon the cloudy mountain-peak supi… Below, far lands are seen tremblin… Its horror and its beauty are divi… Upon its lips and eyelids seems to…
‘Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain; My hand is on thy brow, My spirit on thy brain; My pity on thy heart, poor friend; And from my fingers flow
