#EnglishWriters
Under yonder beech—tree single on… Couched with her arms behind her g… Knees and tresses folded to slip a… Lies my young love sleeping in the… Had I the heart to slide an arm b…
A wicked man is bad enough on eart… But O the baleful lustre of a chi… Once pledged in tyranny! O star o… Darkly illumining a nation’s grief… How many men have worn thee on the…
All other joys of life he strove t… And magnify, and catch them to his… But they had suffered shipwreck wi… And gazed upon him sallow from the… Or if Delusion came, ’twas but to…
Yonder’s the man with his life in… Legs on the march for whatever the… Or to the slaughter, or to the mai… Getting the dole of a dog for pay. Laurels he clasps in the words ‘du…
Sword of Common Sense! - Our surest gift: the sacred chain Of man to man: firm earth for trus… In structures vowed to permanence:… Thou guardian issue of the harvest…
By this he knew she wept with waki… That, at his hand’s light quiver b… The strange low sobs that shook th… Were called into her with a sharp… And strangled mute, like little ga…
THE POETRY OF CHAUCER Grey with all honours of age! but… As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard… Tender to tearfulness-childlike, a… Here beats true English blood ric…
All other joys of life he strove t… And magnify, and catch them to his… But they had suffered shipwreck wi… And gazed upon him sallow from the… Or if Delusion came, 'twas but to…
Young captain of a crazy bark! O tameless heart in battered frame… Thy sailing orders have a mark, And hers is not the name. For action all thine iron clanks
(ADDRESSED TO CERTAI… The wind is East, the wind is Wes… Blows in and out of haven; The wind that blows is the wind th… And croak, my jolly raven!
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…
I cannot lose thee for a day, But like a bird with restless wing My heart will find thee far away, And on thy bosom fall and sing, My nest is here, my rest is here;…
Not vainly doth the earnest voice… Call for the thing that is his pur… Fame is the birthright of the livi… To noble impulse Nature puts no b… Nor vainly to the Sphinx thy voic…
Though I am faithful to my loves… And place them among Memory’s gre… Where burns a face like Hesper: o… Of visages I get a moment’s view, Sweet eyes that in the heaven of m…
Yet it was plain she struggled, an… Of righteous feeling made her piti… Poor twisting worm, so queenly bea… Where came the cleft between us? w… My tears are on thee, that have ra…