#EnglishWriters
BIANCA!—fair Bianca!—who could… With safety on her dark and hazel… Nor find there lurk’d in it a witc… Fatal to balmy nights and blessed… The peaceful breath that made the…
I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon
"Coming events cast their shadow b… I had a vision in the summer light… Sorrow was in it, and my inward si… Ached with sad images. The touch… Gushed down my cheeks:—the figured…
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold Molten, graven, hammered and rolle… Heavy to get and light to hold, Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold…
Look how the golden ocean shines a… Its pebbly stones, and magnifies t… So does the bright and blessed lig… Its own things glorify, and raise… As weeds seem flowers beneath the…
Giver of glowing light! Though but a god of other days, The kings and sages Of wiser ages Still live and gladden in thy geni…
The curse of Adam, the old curse… Though I inherit in this feverish… Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and… And fruitless thought, in Care’s… Yet more sweet honey than of bitte…
One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly,
A lake and a fairy boat To sail in the moonlight clear, - And merrily we would float From the dragons that watch us her… Thy gown should be snow-white silk
No popular respect will I omit To do thee honor on this happy day… When every loyal lover tasks his w… His simple truth in studious rhyme… And to his mistress dear his hopes…
It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the Time of Roses,— We plucked them as we passed! That churlish season never frown’d
Most delicate Ariel! submissive t… Won by the mind’s high magic to it… Invisible embassy, or secret guest… Weighing the light air on a lighte… Whether into the midnight moon, to…
Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how I wake and passionate watches keep… And yet while I address thee now, Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep… ’Tis sweet enough to make me weep,
—Methought I saw Life swiftly treading over endless… And, at her foot-print, but a bygo… The ocean-past, which, with increa… Swallow’d her steps like a pursuin…
It was not in the Winter Our loving lot was cast; It was the time of roses— We pluck’d them as we pass’d! That churlish season never frown’d