#EnglishWriters #Victorian
I said: “Nay, pluck not,—let the… Even as thou sayest, it is sweet a… But let it ripen still. The tree’… Sees in the stream its own fecundi… And bides the day of fulness. Sha…
Sometimes she is a child within mi… Cowering beneath dark wings that l… With still tears showering and ave… Inexplicably fill’d with faint ala… And oft from mine own spirit’s hur…
(In the Academy of Bruges) MYSTERY: God, man’s life, born… Of woman. There abideth on her br… The ended pang of knowledge, the w… Is calm assured. Since first her…
THAT voice I hear,—how heard I… Although my home is this, seems fr… There… still it trails along and m… Like the slow death of sound withi… Or like the humming whine in some…
Oh! May sits crowned with hawthor… And is Love’s month, they say; And Love’s the fruit that is ripe… By ladies’ eyes in May.
Some ladies love the jewels in Lo… And gold—tipped darts he hath for… In idle scornful hours he flings a… And some that listen to his lute’s… Do love to vaunt the silver praise…
IN this new shade of Death, the s… Passes me still of form and face; Some bent, some gazing as they go, Some swiftly, some at a dull pace, Not one that speaks in any case.
The day is dark and the night To him that would search their hea… No lips of cloud that will part Nor morning song in the light: Only, gazing alone,
Young Love lies sleeping In May—time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light: White lambs come grazing,
This is that blessed Mary, pre—el… God’s Virgin. Gone is a great whi… Dwelt young in Nazareth of Galile… Unto God’s will she brought devou… Profound simplicity of intellect,
ROBE d’or, mais rien ne veut Qu’une rose à ses cheveux. A golden robe, yet will she wear Only a rose in her golden hair.
UNCERTAIN—AGED Miss Thereab… Tough fossil of her teens, Has lifted up with saving hand The ruined Smithereens. Down the dark steps of debt that h…
What other woman could be loved li… Or how of you should love possess… After the fulness of all rapture,… As at the end of some deep avenue A tender glamour of day,—there com…
OF her I thought who now is gone… And, the thought passing over, to… Was like a fall from spirit into s… Or from the heaven of heavens to s… None other than Love’s self ordai…
Sweet twining hedgeflowers wind—st… On this June day; and hand that c… Still glades; and meeting faces sc… An osier—odoured stream that draws… Deep to its heart; and mirrored ey…