#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
SHE took the wood thro’ which she… But in the lake near which she wen… An image met, and swayed and swung… And three times with her image ble… The vision from that mirror fled,
THO’ many a moon had roll’d away Since Essex at the block had died… The Queen upon her night-couch la… And o’er his end horrific sighed. “Oh Essex, oh! my joy and woe
MY loved one appears In a vision by night, The loveliest jewel Ever gladdened the sight; With her pensive blue eyes,
DEAR critics, pray, what have I… That thus you frown so? tell me tr… ‘You’ve for your neck a halter spu… In blaming of our race unduly!’ Don’t hang me, pray!—Just praise…
TO-NIGHT a gilded moth took win… And round-a-round yon wax-light fl… And, while his flight did her enri… He nearer to the dazzler drew. ‘So fair art thou,’ he cried, 'to…
FROM all that I have seen or hea… This world, is but an empty show, And only can the heart afford What tends to bitter strife and wo… Nay in its clutch, do what we will…
DAME Malice reigns the Queen of… With wink and whisper, nod and cha… She trots along, and never fags, While she has scandal-seeds to sca… Then when her seeds are poison-wee…
SHE took the oars and rowed along With such a grace, the mere did wa… Into a sweet, melodious song, At every charming stroke was taken… And at each sound, the hills aroun…
(The first two lines are old.) HEY Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady doth? Is she laughing, is she sobbing Is she gay, or grave, or both?
THE vision will vanish for ever, That gildeth this moment thy track… And in vain were the noblest endea… To call the enchantment back. Yet pine not; a balm—an ovation
‘You naughty Bee!’ the Red Rose… ‘To come at noon by Envy driven, And wound the bloom whose beauty m… The Sun to linger in the heaven! ’I little dream’d, while I did gr…
THE bitter wind blows o’er the de… —The bloom from the blossom foreve… And I must trudge on thro’ the sl… And sweet to my heart were the lot… Upon my shrunk bosom sleep seizeth…
‘SWEET Billy Taylor went to sea… Bravo, my metre ballad-monger! ‘With silver buckles on his knee!’ Another stave—a little longer! ‘When he comes back he’ll marry me…
IN despite of the cold and the gl… To ornament summer’s bleak tomb, Blooms the snowdrop; and lo! at th… Sad Flora is thrilled with deligh… And exults in the moments to come.
HER harp she takes, from string t… Her little snowy fingers, glancing… Into Night’s ear a wild spell fli… And all the while my heart is danc… Why thus, fond heart, thus dancest…