#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Two separate divided silences, Which, brought together, would fin… Two glances which together would r… In love, now lost like stars beyon… Two hands apart whose touch alone…
Could Juno’s self more sovereign… Than thou, 'mid other ladies thron… Or Pallas, when thou bend’st with… O’er poet’s page gold—shadowed in… Dost thou than Venus seem less he…
TO—NIGHT this sunset spreads tw… Cleaving the western sky; Winged too with wind it is, and wi… Of birds; as if the day’s last hou… Of strenuous flight must die.
As growth of form or momentary gla… In a child’s features will recall… The father’s with the mother’s fac… Sweet interchange that memories st… And yet, as childhood’s years and…
Lady, I thank thee for thy loveli… Because my lady is more lovely sti… Glorying I gaze, and yield with g… To thee thy tribute; by whose swee… Of delicate life Love labours to…
Because our talk was of the cloud—… And moon—track of the journeying f… Her tremulous kisses faltered at l… And her eyes dreamed against a dis… But soon, remembering her how brie…
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s Summer’s swe…
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…
WITH Shakspeare’s manhood at a b… Through Hamlet’s doubt to Shakspe… And kin to Milton through his Sat… At Death’s sole door he stooped,… And to the dear new bower of Engl…
Mother of the Fair Delight, Thou handmaid perfect in God’s si… Now sitting fourth beside the Thr… Thyself a woman—Trinity,— Being a daughter born to God,
IN a soft—complexioned sky, Fleeting rose and kindling grey, Have you seen Aurora fly At the break of day? So my maiden, so my plighted may
WHAT masque of what old wind—wit… Honours this Lady? Flora, wanton—… For birth, and with all flowrets p… Aurora, Zephyrus, with mutual che… Of clasp and kiss: the Graces cir…
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s or Summer’s…
I KNOW not how it is, I have th… In lazy moods, of seeking no excus… But holding that man’s ease must b… Of man’s philosophy, I give the s… To thought, and lounge at shuffle…
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,