#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
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:
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
Watch thou and fear; to—morrow tho… Or art thou sure thou shalt have t… Is not the day which God’s word p… To come man knows not when? In yo… Now while we speak, the sun speeds…
“SORDELLO’S story,” the Sphin… “Who would has heard.” Is that en… 'Twere not amiss to add, has under… Who understood perhaps has profite… For my part I could tell a tale i…
In our Museum galleries To—day I lingered o’er the prize Dead Greece vouchsafes to living… Her Art for ever in fresh wise From hour to hour rejoicing me.
GETTING his pictures, like his… Far, far away in Belfast by the s… His watchful one—eyed uninvaded sl… MacCracken sleepeth. While the P… Must keep the shady side, he walks…
What thing unto mine ear Wouldst thou convey,—what secret t… O wandering water ever whispering? Surely thy speech shall be of her. Thou water, O thou whispering wan…
“DIGITUM tuum, Thoma, Infer, et vide manûs! Manum tuam, Thoma, Affer, et mitte in latus.” “Dominus et Deus,
The wind flapp’d loose, the wind w… Shaken out dead from tree and hill… I had walk’d on at the wind’s will… I sat now, for the wind was still. Between my knees my forehead was,—
DOUBT spake no word in me as the… Loathing, I could not praise: I c… God for the cup of evil that I dr… I dared not cry upon His strength… My soul from weapons it was bent t…
As one who, groping in a narrow st… Hath a strong sound of bells upon… Which, being at a distance off, ap… Quite close to him because of the… So with this France. She stumbles…
Mystery: lo! betwixt the sun and m… Astarte of the Syrians: Venus Qu… Ere Aphrodite was. In silver shee… Her twofold girdle clasps the infi… Of bliss whereof the heaven and ea…
DID she in summer write it, or in… Or with this wail of autumn at her… Or in some winter left among old y… Scratched it through tettered cark… That round her heart the frost was…
Not in thy body is thy life at all But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…
AH! dear one, we were young so lo… It seemed that youth would never g… For skies and trees were ever in s… And water in singing flow In the days we never again shall k…