#EnglishWriters
When a lover clasps his fairest, Then be our dread sport the rarest… Their caresses were like the chaff In the tempest, and be our laugh His despair—her epitaph!
From the Greek. Eagle! why soarest thou above that… To what sublime and star-ypaven ho… Floatest thou?— I am the image of swift Plato’s s…
Hopes, that swell in youthful brea… Live not through the waste of time… Love’s rose a host of thorns inves… Cold, ungenial is the clime, Where its honours blow.
Returning from its daily quest, my… Changed thoughts and vile in thee… It grieves me that thy mild and ge… Those ample virtues which it did i… Has lost. Once thou didst loathe…
I faint, I perish with my love! I… Frail as a cloud whose [splendours… Under the evening’s ever-changing… I die like mist upon the gale, And like a wave under the calm I…
Far, far away, O ye Halcyons of Memory, Seek some far calmer nest Than this abandoned breast! No news of your false spring
Yet, Freedom, yet, thy banner, to… Streams like a thunder-storm again… A glorious people vibrated again The lightning of the nations: Lib… From heart to heart, from tower to…
Once, early in the morning, Beelz… With care his sweet person adornin… He put on his Sunday clothes. II. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof…
DRAMATIS PERSONÃ Count Francesco Cenci. Giacomo, his Son. Bernardo, his Son. Cardinal Camillo.
The death-bell beats!— The mountain repeats The echoing sound of the knell; And the dark Monk now Wraps the cowl round his brow,
She was an aged woman; and the yea… Which she had numbered on her toil… Had bowed her natural powers to de… She was an aged woman; yet the ray Which faintly glimmered through he…
Wake the serpent not’lest he Should not know the way to go,— Let him crawl which yet lies sleep… Through the deep grass of the mead… Not a bee shall hear him creeping,
THE world’s great age begins anew… The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn; Heaven smiles, and faiths and empi…
HOW wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue; The other, rosy as the morn
Where art thou, beloved To-morrow… When young and old, and strong and… Rich and poor, through joy and sor… Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,— In thy place—ah! well-a-day!