#EnglishWriters
LONG ago, on a bright spring day… I passed a little child at play; And as I passed, in childish glee She called to me, “Come and play… But my eyes were fixed on a far-of…
THE LARK above our heads doth k… A heaven we see not here below; She sees it, and for joy she sings… Then falls with ineffectual wings. Ah, soaring soul! faint not nor ti…
Not here in the populous town, In the playhouse or mart, Not here in the ways gray and brow… Bnt afar on the green-swelling dow… Is the home of my heart.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world… With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes,
O CHANTRY of the Cherubim, Down-looking on the stream! Beneath thy boughs the day grows d… Through windows comes the gleam; A thousand raptures fill the air,
Hark! ’tis the rush of the horses, The crash of the galloping gun! The stars are out of their courses… The hour of Doom has begun. Leap from thy scabbard, O sword!
Watchman, watchman, what of the ni… What of the night to tell? The heavens are dark, and never a… But the far-off flicker of Hell. But the steed is in the stall,
Across the Glory of the glowing s… A veil is drawn of shadowed mists… From lavishness from God’s late g… So, after farewell said, fond memo… Of words and looks, now over, come…
Oft had I felt, like pure Endymio… Such love for the sweet moon, that… Believed her able on earth to love… With whatso man she set her love u… But as I wandered once when day w…
Who knows the deeps, where the wat… Leagues from the light away? Who knows the heights, where myria… Fill heaven with endless day? The earth goes on—seeks and loses…
What have I given, Bold sailor on the sea? In earth or heaven, That you should die for me? What can I give,
Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live, when flowers are at… And overhead the happy swallows tw… Only to live! There nothing is mo…
For rain, for rain the parched lan… Reproachful to the cloudless sky. The hot white fields in light are… The rivers in their beds are shrin… For rest, for rest the weary cry
When Death from some fair face Is stealing life away, All weep, save she, the grace That earth shall lose today. When Time from some fair face
White-faced Winter Roses, O’er the grave I plant you Where the dead reposes, That a soul may haunt you, And your ghostly whiteness