#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
The Orchard—Pit Piled deep below the screening app… They lie with bitter apples in the… And some are only ancient bones th… And some had ships that last year’…
I never reared a young Wombat To glad me with his pin—hole eye, But when he most was sweet & fat And tail—less; he was sure to die!
Between the hands, between the bro… Between the lips of Love—Lily, A spirit is born whose birth endow… My blood with fire to burn through… Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,
From child to youth; from youth to… From lethargy to fever of the hear… From faithful life to dream—dower’… From trust to doubt; from doubt to… Thus much of change in one swift c…
Know’st thou not at the fall of th… How the heart feels a languid grie… Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf…
Even as a child, of sorrow that we… The dead, but little in his heart… Since without need of thought to h… Their turn it is to die and his to… Even so the winged New Love smile…
That lamp thou fill’st in Eros’ n… O Hero, shall the Sestian augurs… To—morrow, and for drowned Leande… To Anteros its fireless lip shall… Aye, waft the unspoken vow: yet da…
Eat thou and drink; to—morrow thou… Surely the earth, that’s wise bein… Needs not our help. Then loose me… Thy sultry hair up from my face; t… May pour for thee this golden wine…
I. HERSELF To be a sweetness more desired tha… A bodily beauty more acceptable Than the wild rose—tree’s arch tha… To be an essence more environing
ON a fair Sabbath day, when His… It is pleasant to feast with my L… His stewards stand robed at the fo… Of the soul—filling, life—giving b… All the guests here had burthens;…
Lazy laughing languid Jenny, Fond of a kiss and fond of a guine… Whose head upon my knee to—night Rests for a while, as if grown lig… With all our dances and the sound
O leave your hand where it lies co… Upon the eyes whose lids are hot: Its rosy shade is bountiful Of silence, and assuages thought. O lay your lips against your hand
On this sweet bank your head thric… I lay, and spread your hair on eit… And see the newborn woodflowers ba… Look through the golden tresses he… On these debateable borders of the…
The turn of noontide has begun. In the weak breeze the sunshine yi… There is a bell upon the fields. On the long hedgerow’s tangled run A low white cottage intervenes:
PEACE in her chamber, wheresoe’e… It be, a holy place: The thought still brings my soul s… As morning meadows wear. Whether it still be small and ligh…
