#EnglishWriters #Romantic
The Son of Love and Lord of War… Him who bade England bow to Norma… And left the name of conqueror mor… To his unconquerable dynasty. Not fann’d alone by Victory’s fle…
Oh, Castlereagh! thou art a patri… Cato died for his country, so dids… He perish’d rather than see Rome… Thou cutt’ st thy throat that Bri… So Castlereagh has cut his throat…
I stood beside the grave of him wh… The comet of a season, and I saw The humblest of all sepulchres, an… With not the less of sorrow and of… On that neglected turf and quiet s…
The wild gazelle on Judah’s hills… Exulting yet may bound, And drink from all the living rill… That gush on holy ground: Its airy step and glorious eye
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’…
When fierce conflicting urge The breast where love is wont to g… What mind can stem the stormy surg… Which rolls the tide of human woe? The hope of praise, the dread of s…
Woman! experience might have told… That all must love thee who behold… Surely experience might have taugh… Thy firmest promises are nought: But, placed in all thy charms befo…
There be none of Beauty’s daughte… With a magic like Thee; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing
There’s not a joy the world can gi… When the glow of early thought dec… 'Tis not on youth’s smooth cheek t… But the tender bloom of heart is g… Then the few whose spirits float a…
I enter thy garden of roses, Beloved and fair Haidée, Each morning where Flora reposes, For surely I see her in thee. Oh, Lovely! thus low I implore th…
To Ianthe: Not in those climes where I have… Though Beauty long hath there bee… Not in those visions to the heart… Forms which it sighs but to have o…
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left J… Pillow’d upon a fair and happy bre… And watch’d by eyes that never yet… And loved by a young heart, too de… To feel the poison through her spi…
‘Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus… Dear Long, in this sequester’d sc… While all around in slumber lie, The joyous days, which ours have b… Come rolling fresh on Fancy’s eye…
Time was, ere yet in these degener… Ignoble themes obtain’d mistaken p… When sense and wit with poesy alli… No fabl’d graces, flourish’d side… From the same fount their inspirat…