#English #Romanticism #XIXCentury
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,
I dreamed that, as I wandered by… Bare Winter suddenly was changed… And gentle odours led my steps ast… Mixed with a sound of waters murmu… Along a shelving bank of turf, whi…
Another Version Of 'A Bridal So… Night, with all thine eyes look do… Darkness shed its holiest dew! When ever smiled the inconstant mo… On a pair so true?
Serene in his unconquerable might Endued[,] the Almighty King, his… Encompassed unapproachably with po… And darkness and deep solitude an… Stood like a black cloud on some a…
Inter marmoreas Leonorae pendula… Fortunata mmis Machina dicit hora… Quas manibus premit ilia duas inse… Cur mihi sit digito tangere, amata…
Shall we roam, my love, To the twilight grove, When the moon is rising bright; Oh, I’ll whisper there, In the cool night-air,
WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken,
Before those cruel twins whom at o… Incestuous Change bore to her fat… Error and Truth, had hunted from… All those bright natures which ado… And left us nothing to believe in,…
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
Rough wind, that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm whose tears are vain,
Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fa… As star-beams among twilight trees… Such lovely ministers to meet
Tremble, Kings despised of man! Ye traitors to your Country, Tremble! Your parricidal plan At length shall meet its destiny..… We all are soldiers fit to fight,
When May is painting with her col… The landscape sketched by April h…
Mighty eagle! thou that soarest O’er the misty mountain forest, And amid the light of morning Like a cloud of glory hiest, And when night descends defiest
My soul is an enchanted boat, Which, like a sleeping swan, doth… Upon the silver waves of thy sweet… And thine doth like an angel sit Beside a helm conducting it,
