#EnglishWriters
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…
Is there a bitter pang for love re… O God! The dead love doth not cos… Than the alive, the loving, the be… Not yet, not yet beyond all hopes… Would I were laid
Look how the lark soars upward and… Turning a spirit as he nears the s… His voice is heard, but body there… To fix the vague excursions of the… So, poets’ songs are with us, tho’…
—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…
Oh, heavy day! oh, day of woe! To misery a poster, Why was I ever farrowed, why Not spitted for a roaster? In this world, pigs, as well as me…
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…
It is not death, that sometime in… This eloquent breath shall take it… That sometime these bright stars,… In sunlight to the sun, shall set… That this warm conscious flesh sha…
The world is with me, and its many… Its woes—its wants—the anxious hop… That wait on all terrestrial affai… The shades of former and of future… Forboding fancies and prophetic te…
‘By the North Pole, I do challen… From 'Love’s Labour’s Lost.’ Paery, my man! has thy brave leg Yet struck its foot against the pe… On which the world is spun?
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
I will not have the mad Clytie, Whose head is turned by the sun; The tulip is a courtly queen, Whom, therefore, I will shun; The cowslip is a country wench,
Immortal Imogen, crown’d queen ab… The lilies of thy sex, vouchsafe t… A fairy dream in honor of true lov… True above ills, and frailty, and… Perchance a shadow of his own care…
’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…
How bravely Autumn paints upon th… The gorgeous fame of Summer which… Hues of all flow’rs, that in their… Trophied in that fair light whereo… Tulip, and hyacinth, and sweet ros…
Silence There is a silence where hath been… There is a silence where no sound… In the cold grave—under the deep,… Or in wide desert where no life is…