#EnglishWriters
Hail! once again, that sweet stron… Loud on my loftiest larch, Thou quaverest with thy mottled th… Brave minstrel of bleak March! Hearing thee flute, who pines or g…
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…
‘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…
Latest, earliest of the year, Primroses that still were here, Snugly nestling round the boles Of the cut-down chestnut poles, When December’s tottering tread
Where Apennine slopes unto Tuscan… And breaks into dimples, and laugh… To see where the terrors of Winte… And out of a valley of grape and g… There blossoms a City of domes an…
HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it,
Beneath this marble, mute of prais… Is hushed the heart of One Who, whilst it beat, had eagle’s g… To stare upon the sun. Equal in flight
Queen, widowed Mother of a widowe… Whose ancient sorrow goeth forth t… Her new-born sorrow with parental… And tearful eyes that oft on hers… Will not your generous heart be no…
Dearest, I know thee wise and goo… Beloved by all the best; With fancy like Ithuriel’s spear, A judgment proof 'gainst rage or f… Heart firm through many a stormy y…
Behind her rolling ramparts Engla… Impregnable, and girt by cliff-bui… Weaving to peace and plenty, day b… The long-drawn hours. In peace Spring freed her flocks…
Apollo! Apollo! Apollo! Where hast thou, Apollo, gone? I have wandered on and on, Through the shaggy Dorian gorges, Down from where Parnassus forges
Church-doors should still stand op… Open to all who come for praise or… Laden with gift of love or load of… Nimbused with gold, or flecked wit… Mother, or snow-white bride, or pa…
How can I tell thee when I love t… In rapture or repose? how shall I… I only know I love thee every way… Plumed for love’s flight, or folde… See, what is day but night bedewed…
I found, and plucked, an autumn-bl… And shut my eyes, and scented all… When lo! as in the month the black… Lambs 'gan to bleat, and merle and… Flower of my life! inestimably dea…
I sallied afield when the bud firs… And the sun first slanteth hotly, And I came on a yokel in cap and… And a suit of saffron motley. He was squat on a bank where a sel…