#EnglishWriters
Dead! all’s done with! —R. Browning. These blossoms that I bring, This song that here I sing, These tears that now I shed,
At Loschwitz above the city The air is sunny and chill; The birch-trees and the pine-trees Grow thick upon the hill. Lone and tall, with silver stem,
She, who so long has lain Stone-stiff with folded wings, Within my heart again The brown bird wakes and sings. Brown nightingale, whose strain
What ails my senses thus to cheat? What is it ails the place, That all the people in the street Should wear one woman’s face? The London trees are dusty-brown
Cruel? I think there never was a… More cruel, thro’ all the weary da… This is no dream, my heart kept on… But sober certainty of waking blis… Dreams? O, I know their faces—goo…
(A Fragment)>/i> What, have I waked again? I never… To see the rosy dawn, or ev’n this… Dull, solemn stillness, ere the da… The lamp burns low; low burns the…
They trod the streets and squares… With weary hearts, a little while… When, thin and grey, the melanchol… Clung to the leafless branches ove… Or when the smoke-veiled sky grew…
(To Sylvia.) My Love, my Love, it was a day in… A mellow, drowsy, golden afternoon… And all the eager people thronging… To that great hall, drawn by the m…
Where drowsy sound of college-chim… Across the air is blown, And drowsy fragrance of the limes, I lie and dream alone. A dazzling radiance reigns o’er al…
The mountains in fantastic lines Sweep, blue-white, to the sky, whi… Blue as blue gems; athwart the pin… The lake gleams blue. We three were here, three years go…
Straw in the street where I pass… Dulls the sound of the wheels and… ’Tis for a failing life they lay Straw in the street. Here, where the pulses of London…
What wonder that I should be drea… Out here in the garden to-day? The light through the leaves is st… Paulina cries, “Play!” The birds to each other are callin…
"To see my love suffices me."… —Ballades in Blue China. Some men to carriages aspire; On some the costly hansoms wait; Some seek a fly, on job or hire;
I lounge in the doorway and lan… While Tom, Dick and Harry are da… My spirit rises to the music’s bea… There is a leaden fiend lurks in m… To move unto your motion, Love, w…
Last June I saw your face three t… Three times I touched your hand; Now, as before, May month is o’er… And June is in the land. O many Junes shall come and go,