#EnglishWriters
There lives a voice within me, a g… And its sweet lispings win me, til… Up evermore it springeth, like som… And evermore it singeth this sweet… This world is full of beauty, as o…
Although its features fade in ligh… We have shadowy revealings of the… A little glimpse, when Spring unv… Of the Sleeping Beauty in the sou… A little drop of Heaven in each d…
The stream of Life that brimmed i… We drain to gather Wisdom’s grain… And often as we count the riches o… Half wish our wealth were drowned…
Egypt! how I have dwelt with you… So long, so intimately, that it se… As if you had borne me; though I… It was so many thousand years ago! And in my gropings darkly undergro…
Your tiny picture makes me yearn; We are so far apart! My Darling, I can only turn And kiss you in my heart. A thousand tender thoughts a-wing
Oft in the night I am with you, D… I lean and listen your breathing t… Little you dream of any one near. No one knoweth that I am gone; Curtains closely about me drawn,
We thank Thee, Lord, for one day To look Heaven in the face! The Poor have only Sunday; The sweeter is the grace. 'Tis then they make the music
They pity Pegasus because The Matrimonial Car he draws Along the ruts of life: And hot and dusty is the road, And heavy is the living load
The Delian diver wrecked her life… A pearl she saw by Visionary glea… And died with empty hand that coul… The treasure only Real in her dre…
You perfect, pure, original, Writ in a tongue unknown to all; Translated, in some other sphere, You may be read; but will not here…
The flower you placed within my bu… Has faded; but there lives within… Another rose, unfolding hour by ho… Your beauty’s self in its immortal… So living-warm this dainty blossom…
A FEW more Meetings on the Deep… And partings on the shore; And then in Heaven at last we kee… Our tryst for evermore. A little further we must bear
TRUE Poets conquer Glory—do not… It; do not beg their way to Fame; Nor at her skirts in private bend… Nor sow the public broadcast with… They are the great High Priests o…
I sometimes think that Shakespear… To me that very self so long conce… But if his soul my soul has lighte… I sometimes think it was to gaze o… To find, with loving wonder in his…
The Day goes down red darkling, The moaning waves dash out the lig… And there is not a star of hope sp… On the threshold of my night. Wild winds of Autumn go wailing