#EnglishWriters
"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…
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…
She’s up and gone, the graceless g… And robb’d my failing years! My blood before was thin and cold But now ’tis turn’d to tears;— My shadow falls upon my grave,
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,
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,
By ev’ry sweet tradition of true h… Graven by Time, in love with his… By all old martyrdoms and antique… Wherein Love died to be alive the… Yea, by the sad impression on the…
Mother of light! how fairly dost t… Over those hoary crests, divinely… Art thou that huntress of the silv… Fabled of old? Or rather dost tho… Those cloudy summits thence to gaz…
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…
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an inc...
Full of drink and full of meat, On our SAVIOUR’S natal day, CHARITY’S perennial treat; Thus I heard a Pauper say:— ‘Ought not I to dance and sing
There is dew for the flow’ret And honey for the bee, And bowers for the wild bird, And love for you and me. There are tears for the many
Unfathomable Night! how dost thou… Over the flooded earth, and darkly… The mighty city under thy full tid… Making a silent palace for old Sl… Like his own temple under the hush…
Oh, when I was a tiny boy, My days and nights were full of jo… My mates were blithe and kind!— No wonder that I sometimes sigh, And dash the tear-drop from my eye…
Spring it is cheery, Winter is dreary, Green leaves hang, but the brown m… When he’s forsaken, Wither’d and shaken,
‘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...