#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
[I am afraid these verses will not… If I esteemed you less, Envy woul… Pleasure, and leave to Wonder and… The ministration of the thoughts t… The mind which, like a worm whose…
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
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it… Who dares arrest the wheels of des… And plunge me in the lowest Hell… Will not the lightning’s blast des… Will not steel drink the blood-lif…
The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empi…
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…
The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of sn…
Is it that in some brighter sphere We part from friends we meet with… Or do we see the Future pass Over the Present’s dusky glass? Or what is that that makes us seem
Mine eyes were dim with tears unsh… Yes, I was firm—thus wert not tho… My baffled looks did fear yet drea… To meet thy looks—I could not kno… How anxiously they sought to shine
From the Greek of Moschus. Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament… Augment your tide, O streams, wit… For the beloved Bion is no more. Let every tender herb and plant an…
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,
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 ’…
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…
Ah! sweet is the moonbeam that sle… And sweet the mild rush of the sof… And sweet is the glimpse of yon di… 'Neath the verdant arcades of yon… But sweeter than all was thy tone…
Here, my dear friend, is a new boo… I have already dedicated two To other friends, one female and o… What you are, is a thing that I m… What can this be to those who prai…
center DRAMATIS PERSONÆ Count Francesco Cenci. Giacomo, his Son. Bernardo, his Son.
