Date: 1817
"But he, the bard of every age and clime, / Of genius fruitful, ardent and sublime, / Who, from the glowing mint of fancy, pours / No spurious metal, fused from common ores, / But gold, to matchless purity refined, / And stamp'd with all the godhead in his mind."
preview | full record— Gifford, William (1756-1826)
Date: 1817
"The wise Stagyrite speaks of no successive particles propagating motion like billiard balls (as Hobbs;) nor of nervous or animal spirits, where inanimate and irrational solids are thawed down, and distilled, or filtrated by ascension, into living and intelligent fluids, that etch and re-etch eng...
preview | full record— Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834)
Date: 1817
"The thought thereof is awful, sweet, and holy, / Chacing away all worldliness and folly; / Coming sometimes like fearful claps of thunder, Or the low rumblings earth's regions under; / And sometimes like a gentle whispering / Of all the secrets of some wond'rous thing / That breathes about u...
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1817, 1818
"But the dark fiend who with his iron pen / Dipped in scorn's fiery poison, makes his fame / Enduring there, would o'er the heads of men / Pass harmless, if they scorned to make their hearts his den."
preview | full record— Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822)
Date: 1817
"A sense of real things come doubly strong, / And, like a muddy stream, would bear along / My soul to nothingness."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818
The soul knits "wingedly" with "the orbed drop of light" that is love
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818
The soul may be bent like a "spiritual bow" and "twang'd" inwardly
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818
Herald thought may be sent into a wilderness to dress an uncertain path with green
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818
"My silent thoughts are echoing from these shells."
preview | full record— Keats, John (1795-1821)
Date: 1818
"The Beings of the Mind are not of clay: / Essentially immortal, they create / And multiply in us a brighter ray / And more beloved existence"
preview | full record— Byron, George Gordon Noel, sixth Baron Byron (1788-1824)