#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden, Thou needest not fear mine; My spirit is too deeply laden Ever to burthen thine. II.
I dreamed that Milton’s spirit ro… From life’s green tree his Urania… And from his touch sweet thunder f… All human things built in contempt… And sanguine thrones and impious a…
And earnest to explore within—arou… The divine wood, whose thick green… Tempered the young day to the sigh… Up the green slope, beneath the fo… With slow, soft steps leaving the…
And like a dying lady, lean and pa… Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a ga… Out of her chamber, led by the ins… And feeble wanderings of her fadin… The moon arose up in the murky Ea…
Let those who pine in pride or in… Or think that ill for ill should b… Who barter wrong for wrong, until… Ruins the merchants of such thrift… Visit the tower of Vado, and unle…
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,
Wake the serpent not’lest he Should not know the way to go,— Let him crawl which yet lies sleep… Through the deep grass of the mead… Not a bee shall hear him creeping,
Hark! the owlet flaps his wings In the pathless dell beneath; Hark! ’tis the night-raven sings Tidings of approaching death.
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bri… Blue isles and snowy mountains wea… The purple noon’s transparent migh… The breath of the moist earth is l…
AWAY! the moor is dark beneath t… Rapid clouds have drunk the las… Away! the gathering winds will cal… And profoundest midnight shroud… Pause not! the time is past! Ever…
My faint spirit was sitting in the… Of thy looks, my love; It panted for thee like the hind a… For the brooks, my love. Thy barb whose hoofs outspeed the…
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is il… Which severs those it should unite… Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night goo…
'Here lieth One whose name was wr… But, ere the breath that could era… Death, in remorse for that fell sl… Death, the immortalizing winter, f… Athwart the stream,—and time’s pri…
Once, early in the morning, Beelz… With care his sweet person adornin… He put on his Sunday clothes. II. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof…
Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day
