#Romantic
Nor empty are the honours that we… To the departed; our own hearts ar… Brimfull with grateful reminiscenc… Compassion is excited; the most st… Relent; and better even the best r…
HOW many verses have I thrown Into the fire because the one Peculiar word, the wanted most, Was irrecoverably lost!
‘Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and look’d into my ey… ‘A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must…
Along this coast I led the vacant… To the lone sunshine on the uneven… And nipt the stubborn grass and ju… With one unconscious inobservant h… While crept the other by degrees m…
Here, where precipitate Spring wi… Into hot Summer’s lusty arms expi… And where go forth at morn, at eve… Soft airs, that want the lute to p… And softer sighs, that know not wh…
YOUR pleasures spring like daisi… Cut down and up again as blithe as… From you, Ianthe, little troubles… Like little ripples in a sunny riv…
The chrysolites and rubies Bacchu… To crown the feast where swells th… Where maidens blush at what the mi… They who have coveted may covet no… Bring me, in cool alcove, the grap…
Sophocles: Thou goest then, and l… Aeschylos: Nay, say not so. Whose is the hand that now is pres… A hand I may not ever press again… What glorious forms hath it brough…
Mild is the parting year, and swee… The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its glo…
“Do you remember me? or are you pr… Lightly advancing thro’ her star—t… Ianthe said, and lookt into my eye… “A yes, a yes, to both: for Memor… Where you but once have been must…
Death stands above me, whispering… I know not what into my ear: Of his strange language all I kno… Is, there is not a word of fear.
The Gadite men the royal charge o… Now fragments weighed up from th’… Leave the ground black beneath; ag… Shines into what were porches, and… Once warm with frequentation—clien…
The leaves are falling; so am I; The few late flowers have moisture… So have I too. Scarcely on any bough is heard Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird
WHEN Helen first saw wrinkles in… (’T was when some fifty long had s… And intermarried and branch’d off… She threw herself upon her couch a… On this side hung her head, and ov…