#EnglishWriters
No sun - no moon! No morn– no noon – No dawn– no dusk– no proper time o… No warmth, no cheerfulness, no hea… No comfortable feel in any member…
The dead are in their silent grave… And the dew is cold above, And the living weep and sigh, Over dust that once was love. Once I only wept the dead,
Some sigh for this and that, My wishes don’t go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar. Some fret themselves to death
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…
I saw old Autumn in the misty mor… Stand shadowless like Silence, li… To silence, for no lonely bird wou… Into his hollow ear from woods for… Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn…
I Remember, I Remember I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn;
Still glides the gentle streamlet… With shifting current new and stra… The water that was here is gone, But those green shadows do not cha… Serene, or ruffled by the storm,
‘On the east coast, towards Tunis, the Moors still preserve the key of their ancestors’ houses in Spain; to which country they still express the hopes of one day returning and again pla...
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…
What is a mine—a treasury—a dower— A magic talisman of mighty power? A poet’s wide possession of the ea… He has the enjoyment of a flower’s… Before its budding—ere the first r…
Welcome, dear Heart, and a most k… The day is gloomy, but our looks s… Flowers I have none to give thee,… Their sweetness in a verse to spea… Here are red roses, gather’d at th…
The sun was slumbering in the Wes… My daily labors past; On Anna’s soft and gentle breast My head reclined at last; The darkness closed around, so dea…
Alas, the moon should ever beam To show what man should never see!… I saw a maiden on a stream, And fair was she! I staid awhile, to see her throw
‘Oh where, and oh where Is my bonny laddie gone?’ _Old Song_. One day, as I was going by That part of Holborn christened H…
We watch’d her breathing thro’ the… Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. But when the morn came dim and sad