#EnglishWriters #Victorian
THE groundflame of the crocus bre… Fair Spring slides hither o’er th… Wavers on her thin stem the snowdr… That trembles not to kisses of the… Come Spring, for now from all the…
Dip down upon the northern shore O sweet new-year delaying long; Thou doest expectant nature wrong; Delaying long, delay no more. What stays thee from the clouded n…
Come down, O maid, from yonder mo… What pleasure lives in height (the… In height and cold, the splendour… But cease to move so near the Hea… To glide a sunbeam by the blasted…
You say, but with no touch of scor… Sweet—hearted, you, whose light—bl… Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil—born. I know not: one indeed I knew
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, So loud with voices of the birds, So thick with lowings of the herds… Day, when I lost the flower of me… Who tremblest thro’ thy darkling r…
That which we dare invoke to bless… Our dearest faith; our ghastliest… He, They, One, All; within, with… The Power in darkness whom we gue… I found Him not in world or sun,
Tears, idle tears, I know not wha… Tears from the depth of some divin… Rise in the heart, and gather to t… In looking on the happy Autumn-fi… And thinking of the days that are…
Oh, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final end of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of bl… That nothing walks with aimless fe…
MY father left a park to me, But it is wild and barren, A garden too with scarce a tree, And waster than a warren: Yet say the neighbours when they c…
The brave Geraint, a knight of Ar… A tributary prince of Devon, one Of that great Order of the Table… Had married Enid, Yniol’s only ch… And loved her, as he loved the lig…
Below the thunders of the upper de… Far, far beneath in the abysmal se… His antient, dreamless, uninvaded… The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sun… About his shadowy sides: above him…
Of old sat Freedom on the heights… The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights: She heard the torrents meet. There in her place she did rejoice…
Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slow… It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to…
“So careful of the type?” but no. From scarped cliff and quarried st… She cries, “A thousand types are… I care for nothing, all shall go. ”Thou makest thine appeal to me:
O, were I loved as I desire to be… What is there in the great sphere… Or range of evil between death and… That I should fear, - if I were l… All the inner, all the outer world…