#Romantic
Twenty years hence my eyes may gro… If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall… Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may h…
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…
From you, Ianthe, little troubles… Like little ripples down a sunny r… Your pleasures spring like daisies… Cut down, and up again as blithe a…
HOW many verses have I thrown Into the fire because the one Peculiar word, the wanted most, Was irrecoverably lost!
I STROVE with none, for none wa… Nature I loved and, next to Natur… I warm’d both hands before the fir… It sinks, and I am ready to depar…
Lately our poets loiter’d in green… Content to catch the ballads of th… I fancied I had strength enough t… A loftier station at no distant ti… And might securely from intrusion…
Hyperbion was among the chosen few Of Phoebus; and men honored him a… Honoring in him the God. But othe… As loudly; and the boys as loudly… Hyperbion (more than bard should b…
‘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…
With much ado you fail to tell The requisites for writing well; But, what bad writing is, you quit… Have proved by every line you writ…
Memory! thou hidest from me far, Hidest behind some twinkling star Which peers o’er Pindus, or whose… Crosses that broad and rapid strea… Where Zeus in wily whiteness shon…
Rejoice, ye nations! one is dead By whom ten thousand hearts have b… Widows and orphans, raise your voi… One voice, ye prostrate peoples, r… To God; to God alone be praise!
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: Oh! if you felt the pain I feel! But oh, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true;
Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful e…
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone! —Tho’ youth, where you are, long w… But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste away. ‘Can I be always by your side?’
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.
