#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Soft—littered is the new—year’s la… And in the hollowed haystack at it… The shepherd lies o’ night now, wa… At the ewes’ travailing call throu… The young rooks cheep 'mid the thi…
Behold Fiammetta, shown in Vision… Gloom—girt’ mid Spring—flushed ap… And as she sways the brances with… Along her arm the sundered bloom f… In separate petals shed, each like…
To—day Death seems to me an infan… Which her worn mother Life upon m… Has set to grow my friend and play… If haply so my heart might be begu… To find no terrors in a face so mi…
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…
(In the Louvre) SCARCELY, I think; yet it inde… The meaning reached him, when this… Clear through his frame, a sweet p… And he beheld these rocks and that…
The city’s steeple—towers remove a… Each singly; as each vain infatuat… Leaves God in heaven, and passes.… Each soon appears, so far. Yet th… The first is now scarce further or…
Even as the moon grows queenlier i… When the sky darkens, and her clou… Thrills with intenser radiance fro… So lambent, lady, beams thy sovere… When the drear soul desires thee.…
THROUGH one, years since hanged… Who stabbed backs by the Quarter, Here lieth one who—while Time’s s… Runneth, as God hath taught her, Bearing man’s fame to men,—will ha…
ROSE—SHEATHED beside the ros… Lurks the young adder’s tooth; Milk—mild from new—born hemlock—bl… The earliest drops are wrung: And sweet the flower of his first…
HONEY—FLOWERS to the honey—c… And the honey—bee’s from home. A honey—comb and a honey—flower, And the bee shall have his hour. A honeyed heart for the honey—comb…
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
THE thoughts in me are very calm… That think upon your love: yet by… You shall not greatly marvel that… Or nightfall—yet scarce nightfall—… Leaves me thus sad. Now if you as…
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…
Sometimes I fain would find in th… That I might love thee still in s… Yet how should our Lord Love curt… Thy perfect praise whom most he wo… Alas! he can but make my heart’s l…
‘TIS of the Father Hilary. He strove, but could not pray; so… The steep—coiled stair, where his… A sad blind echo. Ever up He toiled. ’Twas a sick sway of a…