#EnglishWriters
Why should we lodge in marble or i… Spirits more vast than earth, or s… Wiser the silent worshipper that c… Their words for wisdom that will n… Unto the favourite of the passing…
Exile or Caesar? Death hath solve… And made thee certain of thy chang… And thou no more hast wearily to w… Straining to catch the people’s ta… That from unrestful rest would dra…
Where violets blue to olives gray From furrows brown lift laughing e… And silvery Mensola sings its way Through terraced slopes, nor seeks… But onward and downward leaps and…
When Athens challenged Phryne to… Eleusis’ self sufficed not to appa… Her impious tread, and, throned wi… The awful judges frowned on her di… Slowly her lovely limbs she did un…
Is life worth living? Yes, so lon… As Spring revives the year, And hails us with the cuckoo’s son… To show that she is here; So long as May of April takes,
‘He dieth young whom the Gods lov… By Greek Menander; nor alone by… Who gave to Greece his English so… Re-echoed is the saying, but likew… ‘Who uttered nothing base,’ and fr…
Fixed is my Faith, the lingering… That still we move through Libert… The Human Tragedy. When God out of chaos primeval di… And moved on the face of the water…
She came into the April air, And passed across the silvery lawn… Blithe was her voice, her brow was… And rippled from her radiant hair The glow and glory of the dawn.
Come, let us go into the lane, lov… And mark and gather what the Autu… The creamy elder mellowed into win… The russet hip that was the pink-w… The amber woodbine into rubies tur…
Whither, and whence, and why hast… Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art d… As a waterless stream, as a leafle… What have I done to banish thee? But a moon ago, the whole day long
I leaned upon the rustic bridge, And watched the streamlet make Its chattering way past zigzag rid… Down to the silent lake. The sunlight flickered on the wave…
You say that I am fitful. Sweet,… But ’tis that I your fitfulness o… If you are April, how can I be M… Or flaunt bright roses when you we… Shine like the sun, and my sky wil…
Realm of ocean-guarded Peace, Humming loom and grazing steer, Farm, and forge, and woven fleece, Happier, homelier, year by year, Hark! athwart the wintry air,
One day as on an ass I rode, By many a twisting gully, To where once stood the famed abod… Of philosophic Tully, A shepherd lad with hat aslouch
SHE wanders in the April woods, That glisten with the fallen showe… She leans her face against the bud… She stops, she stoops, she plucks… She feels the ferment of the hour:
