#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Guido, I would that Lapo, thou, a… Led by some strong enchantment, mi… A magic ship, whose charmed sails… With winds at will where’er our th… So that no change, nor any evil ch…
I went into the deserts of dim sle… That world which, like an unknown… Bounds this with its recesses wide…
Stern, stern is the voice of fate’… When accents of horror it breathes… Or compels us for aye bid adieu to… Where exists that loved friend to… 'Tis sterner than death o’er the s…
A shovel of his ashes took From the hearth’s obscurest nook, Muttering mysteries as she went. Helen and Henry knew that Granny Was as much afraid of Ghosts as a…
Hark! the owlet flaps her wing, In the pathless dell beneath, Hark! night ravens loudly sing, Tidings of despair and death.— Horror covers all the sky,
The fierce beasts of the woods and… Track not the steps of him who dri… For the light breezes, which for e… Around its margin, heap the sand t…
Earth, ocean, air, belovèd brother… If our great Mother has imbued my… With aught of natural piety to fee… Your love, and recompense the boon… If dewy morn, and odorous noon, an…
When a lover clasps his fairest, Then be our dread sport the rarest… Their caresses were like the chaff In the tempest, and be our laugh His despair—her epitaph!
One sung of thee who left the tale… Like the false dawns which perish… Like empty cups of wrought and dae… Which mock the lips with air, when…
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…
I loved’alas! our life is love; But when we cease to breathe and m… I do suppose love ceases too. I thought, but not as now I do, Keen thoughts and bright of linked…
Spirit ‘I was an infant when my mother we… To see an atheist burned. She too… The dark-robed priests were met ar… The multitude was gazing silently;
They die—the dead return not—Mise… Sits near an open grave and calls… A Youth with hoary hair and hagga… They are the names of kindred, fri… Which he so feebly calls—they all…
Stern, stern is the voice of fate’… When accents of horror it breathes… Or compels us for aye bid adieu to… Where exists that loved friend to… ’Tis sterner than death o’er the s…
Pan loved his neighbour Echo—but… Of Earth and Air pined for the S… The Satyr loved with wasting madn… The bright nymph Lyda,—and so thr… As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved th…
