#EnglishWriters
Bursts from a rending East in fla… The young green leaflet’s harrier,… To strew the garden, strip the sha… And show our Spring with banner t… Was ever such virago morn?
Who murmurs, hither, hither: who Where nought is audible so fills t… Where nought is visible can make a… A veil with eyes that waver throug… Like twilight’s pledge of blessed…
Ladies who in chains of wedlock Chafe at an unequal yoke, Not to nightingales give hearing; Better this, the raven’s croak. Down the Prado strolled my seigne…
But where began the change; and wh… The wretch condemned, who has not… Chafes at his sentence. Shall I,… Drag on Love’s nerveless body thr… I must have slept, since now I wa…
Assured of worthiness we do not dr… Competitors; we rather give them h… And greeting in the lists where we… Must, if we bear an aim beyond the… My betters are my masters: purely…
Violets, shy violets! How many hearts with you compare! Who hide themselves in thickest gr… And thence, unseen, Ravish the enraptured air
I would I were the drop of rain That falls into the dancing rill, For I should seek the river then, And roll below the wooded hill, Until I reached the sea.
Come to me in any shape! As a victor crown’d with vine, In thy curls the clustering grape,… Or a vanquished slave: ’Tis thy coming that I crave,
I think she sleeps: it must be sle… Hangs that abandoned arm toward th… The face turned with it. Now make… Sleep on: it is your husband, not… The Poet’s black stage-lion of wr…
In our old shipwrecked days there… When in the firelight steadily agl… Joined slackly, we beheld the red… Among the clicking coals. Our lib… That eve was left to us: and hushe…
As Puritans they prominently wax, And none more kindly gives and tak… Strong psalmic chanting, like to n… They join to thunderings of their… But naughtiness, with hoggery, not…
Men of our race, we send you one Round whom Victoria’s holy name Is halo from the sunken sun Of her grand Summer’s day aflame. The heart of your loved Motherlan…
A revelation came on Jane, The widow of a labouring swain: And first her body trembled sharp, Then all the woman was a harp With winds along the strings; she…
The sister Hours in circles linke… Daughters of men, of men the mates… Are gone on flow with the day that… With the night that spanned at gol… Mothers, they leave us, quickening…
Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in hi… Has earth beneath his wings: from… He views the rosy dawn. In vain t… The fatal web below while far he f… But when the arrow strikes him, th…