#EnglishWriters #Victorian
What shall be said of this embattl… And armèd occupation of this night By all thy foes beleaguered,—now w… Nor sound denotes the loved one fa… Of these thy vanquished hours what…
THE hop—shop is shut up: the nigh… Here, early, Collinson this eveni… “Into the gulfs of sleep”; and De… Has turned upon the pivot of his c… The whole of this night long; and…
Our Lombard country-girls along t… Wear daggers in their garters: for… That they might hate another girl… Or meet a German lover. Such a kn… I bought her, with a hilt of horn…
Is Memory most of miseries misera… Or the one flower of ease in bitte…
So now the changed year’s turning… And as a girl sails balanced in th… And now before and now again behin… Stoops as it swoops, with cheek th… So Spring comes merry towards me…
O thou who at Love’s hour ecstati… Unto my heart dost evermore presen… Clothed with his fire, thy heart h… Whom I have neared and felt thy b… The inmost incense of his sanctuar…
“Why did you melt your waxen man Sister Helen? To—day is the third since you bega… “The time was long, yet the time r… Little brother.”
I marked all kindred Powers the h… Truth, with awed lips; and Hope,… And Fame, whose loud wings fan th… To signal—fires, Oblivion’s fligh… And Youth, with still some single…
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…
Behold, even I, even I am Beatri… (Div. Com. Purg. xxx.) OF Florence and of Beatrice Servant and singer from of old, O’er Dante’s heart in youth had t…
Around the vase of Life at your s… He has not crept, but turned it wi… And all its sides already understa… There, girt, one breathes alert fo… Whose road runs far by sands and f…
AT length I sickened, standing in… Truthful and for the Truth, whose… Are madness and sharp death. I bo… And said: “As long as the world’s… These accents have been said and t…
The blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven; Her eyes were deeper than the dept… Of waters stilled at even; She had three lilies in her hand,
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…
IT’S copied out at last: very poo… Writ in the cold, with pauses of t… Direct, dear William, to the Post… At Ghent—here written Gand—Gong,… We go to Antwerp first, but shall…