#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
O thou bright Sun! beneath the da… Of western distance that sublime d… And, gleaming lovelier as thy beam… Thy million hues to every vapour l… And, over cobweb lawn and grove an…
The fiery mountains answer each ot… Their thunderings are echoed from… The tempestuous oceans awake one a… And the ice-rocks are shaken round… When the clarion of the Typhoon i…
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!
The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empi…
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…
Dark Spirit of the desart rude That o’er this awful solitude, Each tangled and untrodden wood, Each dark and silent glen below, Where sunlight’s gleamings never g…
Oh! take the pure gem to where sou… Waft repose to some bosom as faith… In which the warm current of love… As it rises unmingled with selfish… Which, untainted by pride, unpollu…
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it; One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it; One hope is too like despair
Extract from Poetical Essay Millions to fight compell’d, to fi… In mangled heaps on War’s red alt… When the legal murders swell the l… When glory’s views the titled idio…
Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep, Have they the Bromian drink from the vine’s stream? What, ho! assistance, comrades, haste, assistance! Or boiled and seethed within...
By the mossy brink, With me the Prince shall sit and… Shall muse in visioned Regency, Rapt in bright dreams of dawning…
Summer was dead and Autumn was ex… And infant Winter laughed upon th… All cloudlessly and cold;—when I,… More in this world than any unders… Wept o’er the beauty, which, like…
‘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.
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,
Thy dewy looks sink in my breast; Thy gentle words stir poison there… Thou hast disturbed the only rest That was the portion of despair! Subdued to Duty’s hard control,
