#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
LET England beware, ere for war… She incur not the mark of the beas… That she march not her power the… Of the blood-imbued wolf of the E… It might be her gain that State t…
THE wind comes from the west to-n… So sweetly down the lane he blowet… Upon my lips, with pure delight, From head to foot my body gloweth. Where did the wind, the magic find
A THOUGHT TOILER faint and… And the manifold troubles by which… Combined with the titters and snee… Lost heart and thus vented the pan… “I’m a-weary with care, I’m a-wea…
CAN this be her? Her dark eyes… Two planets in the midnight heaven… Her cheeks the blood-dyed rose—her… The snow upon the mountains driven… Her tongue’s a silver bell to hear…
LAST night at the fair I met lig… And Nanny from Earsdon and bother… And yellow-hair’d Bessy and hazel… But Rosy for sweetness did bear o… Chorus.—Not Polly, nor Dolly, no…
THE stars are twinkling in the sk… As to the pit I go; I think not of the sheen on high, But of the gloom below. Not rest nor peace, but toil and s…
I’m the spirit Emmalina thy guard… Drawn hither by a subtle law but f… The golden cord of sympathy I lea… Thy aching brows with lilies to en… I have watched thee late and early…
“I JEALOUS? Pooh!—Doth not… Pursue his vessel o’er the billows… No, jealous, no!—From whence thos… —'Tis but the wind among the willo… “Ha, jealous, ha!—Did darling spe…
WOULD I could waken numbers, br… Than is the lark’s song in the clo… Then would I tell you in befittin… How much the Seer is worthy of yo… Shy, sensitive is he, and far from…
WAS ever wretch in such a plight? I scramble on I know not whither! The witches are abroad to-night; Some wicked one has led me hither! ‘That’s just like you, you’ll have…
AWAY with the muses of frolic!—a… With the haunts of diversion and f… Ay, mine be the joy to awaken a la… And to weave for misfortune a garl… We shrink at life’s shadows and fl…
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…
A LITTLE brooklet trilled a son… As merry as the day was long, At which a music-hater stung To frenzy said: 'I’ll bind thy to… And quell thy merriment:' That…
Mother wept, and father sigh’d; With delight a-glow Cried the lad, “To-morrow,” cried… “To the pit I go.” Up and down the place he sped,
DIRECTED by a little star, I paced towards my own loved cot, When rushed a meteor from afar, And I my little guide forgot. Bedazzled was I, and amazed,