#EnglishWriters
I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,
Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and t… Low-brooding, interpenetrating all…
She’s tall and gaunt, and in her h… With flashes of the old fun’s anim… There lowers the fixed and peevish… Bred of a past where troubles came… She tells me that her husband, ere…
One with the ruined sunset, The strange forsaken sands, What is it waits, and wanders, And signs with desparate hands? What is it calls in the twilight -
It’s the Spring. Earth has conceived, and her bosom… Teeming with summer, is glad. Vistas of change and adventure, Thro’ the green land
O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…
A wink from Hesper, falling Fast in the wintry sky, Comes through the even blue, Dear, like a word from you… Is it good-bye?
Life is bitter. All the faces of… Young and old, are gray with trava… Must we only wake to toil, to tire… In the sun, among the leaves, upon… Slumber stills to dreamy death the…
Joy of the Milliner, Envy of the… Star of the Parks, jack-booted, s… He sits between his holsters, soli… Nor, as it seems, though Westmins… With the great globe, in earthquak…
Praise the generous gods for givin… In a world of wrath and strife, With a little time for living, Unto all the joy of life. At whatever source we drink it,
Thin-legged, thin-chested, slight… Neat-footed and weak-fingered: in… Lean, large-boned, curved of beak,… Bold-lipped, rich-tinted, mutable… The brown eyes radiant with vivaci…
Gulls in an aery morrice Gleam and vanish and gleam . . . The full sea, sleepily basking, Dreams under skies of dream. Gulls in an aery morrice
Kate-a-Whimsies, John-a-Dream Still debating, still delay, And the world’s a ghost that gleam… Wavers– vanishes away! We must live while live we can;
If it should come to be, This proof of you and me, This type and sign Of hours that smiled and shone, And yet seemed dead and gone
A DAINTY thing’s the Villanell… Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme, It serves its purpose passing well… A double-clappered silver bell That must be made to clink in chim…