#EnglishWriters #Romantic
And wilt thou weep when I am low? Sweet lady! speak those words agai… Yet if they grieve thee, say not s… I would not give that bosom pain. My heart is sad, my hopes are gone…
Thou whose spell can raise the dea… Bid the prophet’s form appear. ‘Samuel, raise thy buried head! King, behold the phantom seer!’ Earth yawn’d; he stood the centre…
Dear object of defeated care! Though now of Love and thee beref… To reconcile me with despair, Thing image and any tears are left… 'Tis said with Sorrow Time can co…
When Bishop Berkeley said “there… And proved it—'twas no matter what… They say his system 'tis in vain t… Too subtle for the airiest human h… And yet who can believe it! I wou…
When I hear that you express an a… Ne’er think, my beloved, that I d… For your lip would the soul of sus… And your eye beams a ray which can… Yet, still, this fond bosom regret…
THOUGH the day of my destiny’s… And the star of my fate hath decli… Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could fin… Though thy soul with my grief was…
Oh, Anne, your offences to me hav… I thought from my wrath no atoneme… But woman is made to command and d… I look 'd in your face, and I alm… I vow’d I could ne’er for a momen…
When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass, And the meteor on the grave, And the wisp on the morass; When the falling stars are shootin…
Since our Country, our God—Oh, m… Demand that thy Daughter expire; Since thy triumph was brought by t… Strike the bosom that’s bared for… And the voice of my mourning is o’…
Away, away, ye notes of woe! Be silent, thou once soothing stra… Or I must flee from hence—for, oh… I dare not trust those sounds agai… To me they speak of brighter days
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were… And health and youth possess’d me; My goblets blush’d from every vine… And lovely forms caress’d me; I sunn’d my heart in beauty’s eyes…
The chain I gave was fair to view… The lute I added sweet in sound; The heart that offer’d both was tr… And ill deserved the fate it found… These gifts were charm’d by secret…
To the tune of ‘Why, how now, sau… Why, how now, saucy Tom? If you thus must ramble, I will publish some Remarks on Mister Campbell.
Adieu, ye joys of La Valette! Adieu, sirocco, sun, and sweat! Adieu, thou palace rarely enter’d! Adieu, ye mansions where I’ve ven… Adieu, ye cursed streets of stairs…
Youth, Nature, and relenting Jove… To keep my Lamp in strongly strov… But Romanelli was so stout, He beat all three, and blew it out… Oct. 1810.