#EnglishWriters #Romantic
WRITTEN IN 'LETTERS O… ‘Away, away, your fleeting arts May now betray some simpler hearts… And you will smile at their believ… And they shall weep at your deceiv…
As the Liberty lads o’er the sea Bought their freedom, and cheaply,… So we, boys, we Will die fighting, or live free, And down with all kings but King…
From the last hill that looks on t… I beheld thee, Oh Sion! when rend… 'Twas thy last sun went down, and… Flash’d back on the last glance I… II.
Remind me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish’d h… When all my soul was given to thee… Hours that may never be forgot, Till Time unnerves our vital powe…
It is the hour when from the bough… The nightingale’s high note is hea… It is the hour when lovers’ vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word… And gentle winds, and waters near,
THE isles of Greece! the isles o… Where burning Sappho loved and su… Where grew the arts of war and pea… Where Delos rose, and Phoebus spr… Eternal summer gilds them yet,
Ah! Love was never yet without The pang, the agony, the doubt, Which rends my heart with ceaseles… While day and night roll darkling… Without one friend to hear my woe,
If, for silver or for gold, You could melt ten thousand pimple… Into half a dozen dimples, Then your face we might behold, Looking, doubtless, much more snug…
There was a time, I need not name… Since it will ne’er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the sam… As still my soul hath been to thee… And from that hour when first thy…
And thou wert sad—yet I was not w… And thou wert sick, and yet I was… Methought that joy and health alon… Where I was not—and pain and sorr… And is it thus?—it is as I foreto…
When coldness wraps this suffering… Ah! whither strays the immortal mi… It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darken’d dust behin… Then, unembodied, doth it trace
'O’er the glad waters of the dark… Our thoughts as boundless, and our… Far as the breeze can bear, the bi… Survey our empire, and behold our… These are our realms, no limits to…
O Love! O Glory! what are ye who… Around us ever, rarely to alight? There’s not a meteor in the polar… Of such transcendent and more flee… Chill, and chain’d to cold earth,…
To be the father of the fatherless… To stretch the hand from the thron… His offspring, who expired in othe… To make thy sire’s sway by a kingd… This is to be a monarch, and repre…
When amatory poets sing their love… In liquid lines mellifluously blan… And pair their rhymes as Venus yo… They little think what mischief is… The greater their success the wors…