#English #Victorians
I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath you arching…
She’s all my fancy painted him (I make no idle boast); If he or you had lost a limb, Which would have suffered most? He said that you had been to her,
There are certain things —as, a sp… The income—tax, gout, an umbrella… That I hate, but the thing that I… Is a thing they call the Sea. Pour some salt water over the floo…
“MY First —but don’t suppose,” he… “I’m setting you a riddle – Is– if your Victim be in bed, Don’t touch the curtains at his he… But take them in the middle,
The Three Voices The First Voice He trilled a carol fresh and free, He laughed aloud for very glee: There came a breeze from off the s…
Little Birds are dining Warily and well, Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters Gorgeous in their gaiters —
Matilda Jane, you never look At any toy or picture-book. I show you pretty things in vain You must be blind, Matilda Jane! I ask you riddles, tell you tales,
He thought he saw an Elephant That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. “At length I realize,” he said,
I have a fairy by my side Which says I must not sleep, When once in pain I loudly cried It said “You must not weep” If, full of mirth, I smile and gr…
The ladye she stood at her lattice… Wi’ her doggie at her feet; Thorough the lattice she can spy The passers in the street, 'There’s one that standeth at the…
And with that she began nursing her child again, sin… lullaby to it as she did so, and g… lent shake at the end of every lin… “Speak roughly to your little boy,
Poeta Fit, Non Nascitur “How shall I be a poet? How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once ‘the very wish Partook of the sublime.’
Blow, blow your trumpets till they… Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back — Gold—sucking leeches, shoals on sh… Fill all the air with hungry wails…
I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A—sitting on a gate. “Who are you, aged man?” I said,
As one who strives a hill to climb… Who never climbed before: Who finds it, in a little time, Grow every moment less sublime, And votes the thing a bore: