#EnglishWriters
The hours are past, love, Oh, fled they not too fast, love! Those happy hours, when down the m… We saw the rosy mists of morning g… And hand in hand, went forth upon…
Round thy steep castle walls, Who seeks thy love must ride, Who from their dizzy summit falls, Must death abide. O Lady proud and fair,
I heard youth’s silver clarion cal… And looking forth beheld his flowe… Framed in his shining helmet as he… Sheathed in white armour, full of… Watching the coming of a threat’ni…
I look along the dusty dreary way, So lately strew’d with blossoms fr… The sweet procession of the year i… And wither’d whirling leaves run r… Like throngs of tatter’d beggars f…
When the dawn O’er hill and dale Throws her bright veil, Oh, think of me! When the rain
O lady! thou, who in the olden tim… Hadst been the star of many a poet… Thou, who unto a mind of mould sub… Weddest the gentle graces that bes… Fair woman’s best! forgive the dar…
Many a league of salt sea rolls Between us, yet I think our souls… Dear friend, are still as closely… As when we wandered side by side, Some seven years gone, in that fai…
I know that thou wilt read what he… And yet not know that it is writ f… To this cold page I have entruste… Which tells thee all, and yet is t… For oh! this paper is not like my…
Cover me with your everlasting arm… Ye guardian giants of this solitud… From the ill-sight of men, and fro… Tumultuous din of yon wild world’s… Oh, knit your mighty limbs around,…
Raise it to Heaven, when thine ey… For only in a watery sky appears The bow of light; and from th’ inv… Hope’s glory shines not, save thro…
Now in the west is spread A golden bed; Great purple curtains hang around, With fiery fringes bound, And cushions, crimson red,
Let me not die for ever! when I’m… In the cold earth; but let my memo… Live still among ye, like the even… That o’er the sinking day steals p… Let me not be forgotten! though th…
Struggle not with thy life!—the he… Resist not, it will bow thee like… Strive not! thou shalt not conquer… Thou shalt go crushed, and ground,… Complain not of thy life!—for what…
WRITTEN FOR THE 22 OF AU… Darkness upon the mountain and the… Forest and field are bathed in dew… And the night angels vigil o’er th… No sound, no motion; over hill and…
Time beckons on the hours: the exp… Already feels old Winter’s icy br… As with cold hands he scatters on… The faded glories of her autumn wr… As fleetly as the summer’s sunshin…