#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Thy beauty hangs around thee like Splendour around the moon— Thy voice, as silver bells that st… Upon...
The flower that smiles to-day To-morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day
FIRST SPIRIT O thou, who plum’d with strong des… Wouldst float above the earth, bew… A Shadow tracks thy flight of fir… Night is coming!
O that a chariot of cloud were min… Of cloud which the wild tempest we… When the moon over the ocean’s lin… Is spreading the locks of her brig… O that a chariot of cloud were min…
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…
Ye hasten to the grave! What seek… Ye restless thoughts and busy purp… Of the idle brain, which the world… O thou quick heart, which pantest… All that pale Expectation feignet…
‘Do you not hear the Aziola cry? Methinks she must be nigh,’ Said Mary, as we sate In dusk, ere stars were lit, or ca… And I, who thought
THE world is dreary, And I’m weary Of wandering on without thee, Mar… A joy was erewhile In thy voice and thy smile,
The serpent is shut out from Para… The wounded deer must seek the her… In which its heart-cure lies: The widowed dove must cease to hau… Like that from which its mate with…
Silver key of the fountain of tear… Where the spirit drinks till the b… Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a… Is laid asleep in flowers.
The billows on the beach are leapi… The bark is weak and frail, The sea looks black, and the cloud… Darkly strew the gale. Come with me, thou delightful chil…
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…
Rome has fallen, ye see it lying Heaped in undistinguished ruin: Nature is alone undying.
We meet not as we parted, We feel more than all may see; My bosom is heavy-hearted, And thine full of doubt for me:— One moment has bound the free.
