#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
The sleepless Hours who watch me… Curtained with star-inwoven tapest… From the broad moonlight of the sk… Fanning the busy dreams from my di… Waken me when their Mother, the g…
I sing the glorious Power with az… Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste… Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid, Revered and mighty; from his awful… Whom Jove brought forth, in warli…
An old, mad, blind, despised, and… Princes, the dregs of their dull r… Through public scorn,—mud from a m… Rulers who neither see, nor feel,… But leech-like to their fainting c…
Corpses are cold in the tomb; Stones on the pavement are dumb; Abortions are dead in the womb, And their mothers look pale—like t… Of Albion, free no more.
For me, my friend, if not that tea… In my faint eyes, and that my hear… With feelings which make rapture p… Yet, from thy voice that falsehood… I thank thee—let the tyrant keep
From the Greek of Plato. Kissing Helena, together With my kiss, my soul beside it Came to my lips, and there I kept… For the poor thing had wandered th…
His face was like a snake’s—wrinkl… And withered—
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered, The rainbow’s glory is shed. When the lute is broken,
The death-bell beats!— The mountain repeats The echoing sound of the knell; And the dark Monk now Wraps the cowl round his brow,
And said I that all hope was fled… That sorrow and despair were mine, That each enthusiast wish was dead… Had sank beneath pale Misery’s sh… Seest thou the sunbeam’s yellow gl…
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?
... And many there were hurt by that s… His name, they said, was Pleasure… And near him stood, glorious beyon… Four Ladies who possess all emper…
Oh! what is the gain of restless c… And what is ambitious treasure? And what are the joys that the mod… In their sickly haunts of pleasure… My husband’s repast with delight…
At the creation of the Earth Pleasure, that divinest birth, From the soil of Heaven did rise, Wrapped in sweet wild melodies— Like an exhalation wreathing
The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls… Now dark—now glittering—now reflec… Now lending splendour, where from… The source of human thought its tr…
