#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Love hath a chamber all of imagery… And there is one dim nook, A little storied web wherein my he… From leaf to leaf is read as in a… One part in the middle of the web…
Warmed by her hand and shadowed by… As close she leaned and poured her… Whereof the articulate throbs acco… The smooth black stream that makes… Sweet fluttering sheet, even of he…
When first that horse, within whos… The birth was death, o’ershadowed… Her elders, dubious of its Grecia… Brought Helen there to sing the s… She whispered, “Friends, I am alo…
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…
Sometimes she is a child within mi… Cowering beneath dark wings that l… With still tears showering and ave… Inexplicably filled with faint ala… And oft from mine own spirit’s hur…
E GIOVINE il signore, Ed ama molte cose,— I canti, le rose, La forza e l’amore. Quel che più vuole
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,
A little while a little love The hour yet bears for thee and me Who have not drawn the veil to see If still our heaven be lit above. Thou merely, at the day’s last sig…
From child to youth; from youth to… From lethargy to fever of the hear… From faithful life to dream—dower’… From trust to doubt; from doubt to… Thus much of change in one swift c…
DERE was an old nigger, and him… And him tale was rather slow; Me try to read de whole, but me on… Because me found it no go. Den hang up de auther Mrs. Stowe,
The ark of the Lord of Hosts Whose name is called by the name o… Who dwelleth between the Cherubim… O Thou that in no house dost dwel… But walk’st in tent and tabernacle…
THERE is a cloud above the sunse… That wends and makes no stay, For its goal lies beyond the fiery… A lingering breath no calm can cha… The onward labour of the wind’s la…
Let no man ask thee of anything Not yearborn between Spring and S… More of all worlds than he can kno… Each day the single sun doth show. A trustier gloss than thou canst g…
THE shadows fall along the wall, It’s night at Haye—la—Serre; The maidens weave since day grew e… The lady’s in her chair. O passing slow the long hours go
WEARY already, weary miles to—ni… I walked for bed: and so, to get s… I dogged the flying moon with simi… And like a wisp she doubled on my… In ponds; and caught in tree—tops…