#EnglishWriters
My heart is sick with longing, tho… On hope; Time goes with such a he… That neither brings nor takes from… As if he slept—forgetting his old… For, as in sunshine only we can re…
O Lady, leave thy silken thread And flowery tapestrie: There’s living roses on the bush, And blossoms on the tree; Stoop where thou wilt, thy careles…
"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…
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…
Shall I rebuke thee, Ocean, my ol… That once, in rage, with the wild… Thou darest menace my unit of a li… Sending my clay below, my soul abo… Whilst roar’d thy waves, like lion…
A Pathetic Ballad Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war’s alarms; But a cannon-ball took off his leg… So he laid down his arms.
’Twas in that mellow season of the… When the hot sun singes the yellow… Till they be gold,—and with a broa… The Moon looks down on Ceres and… When more abundantly the spider we…
’Twas in the prime of summer-time An evening calm and cool, And four-and-twenty happy boys Came bounding out of school: There were some that ran and some…
I had a gig-horse, and I called h… Because on Sundays for a little j… He was so fast and showy, quite a… Although he sometimes kicked and s… I had a chaise, and christened it…
Farewell, Life! My senses swim, And the world is growing dim; Thronging shadows cloud the light, Like the advent of the night,— Colder, colder, colder still,
A little fairy comes at night, Her eyes are blue, her hair is bro… with silver spots upon her wings, And from the moon she flutters dow… She has a little silver wand,
The swallow with summer Will wing o’er the seas, The wind that I sigh to Will visit thy trees. The ship that it hastens
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
Sleet! and hail! and thunder! And ye winds that rave, Till the sands there under Tinge the sullen wave— Winds, that like a demon
Love, dearest Lady, such as I wou… Lives not within the humor of the… Not being but an outward phantasy, That skims the surface of a tinted… Else it would wane with beauty, an…