#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets’ food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they,
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Ap… Who wakens with her smile the lull… Of sweet desire, taming the eterna… Of Heaven, and men, and all the l… That fleet along the air, or whom…
Come, be happy!'sit near me, Shadow-vested Misery: Coy, unwilling, silent bride, Mourning in thy robe of pride, Desolation’deified!
A portal as of shadowy adamant Stands yawning on the highway of t… Which we all tread, a cavern huge… Around it rages an unceasing strif… Of shadows, like the restless clou…
Why is it said thou canst not live In a youthful breast and fair, Since thou eternal life canst give… Canst bloom for ever there? Since withering pain no power poss…
A hater he came and sat by a ditch… And he took an old cracked lute; And he sang a song which was more… ‘Gainst a woman that was a brute.
SWIFTLY walk o’er the western w… Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave,— Where, all the long and lone dayli… Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear
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…
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,
No, Music, thou art not the ‘food… Unless Love feeds upon its own sw… Till it becomes all Music murmurs…
BEST and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorro… Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough Year just awake
Our boat is asleep on Serchio’s s… Its sails are folded like thoughts… The helm sways idly, hither and th… Dominic, the boatman, has brought… And the oars, and the sails; but ’…
Heigho! the lark and the owl! One flies the morning, and one lul… Only the nightingale, poor fond so… Sings like the fool through darkne… “A widow bird sate mourning for he…
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!
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
