#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
Queen Guinevere had fled the cour… There in the holy house at Almesb… Weeping, none with her save a litt… A novice: one low light betwixt t… Blurred by the creeping mist, for…
Contemplate all this work of Time… The giant labouring in his youth; Nor dream of human love and truth, As dying Nature’s earth and lime; But trust that those we call the d…
Sir Walter Vivian all a summer’s… Gave his broad lawns until the set… Up to the people: thither flocked… His tenants, wife and child, and t… The neighbouring borough with thei…
King Arthur made new knights to f… Left by the Holy Quest; and as he… In hall at old Caerleon, the high… Were softly sundered, and through… Pelleas, and the sweet smell of th…
The woods decay, the woods decay a… The vapours weep their burthen to… Man comes and tills the field and… And after many a summer dies the s… Me only cruel immortality
O maiden, fresher than the first g… With which the fearful springtide… Weep not, Almeida, that I said to… That thou hast half my heart, for… Doth hold the other half in sovran…
How fares it with the happy dead? For here the man is more and more; But he forgets the days before God shut the doorways of his head. The days have vanish’d, tone and t…
My dream had never died or lived a… As in some mystic middle state I… Seeing I saw not, hearing not I h… Though, if I saw not, yet they to… So often that I speak as having s…
The last tall son of Lot and Bell… And tallest, Gareth, in a showerf… Stared at the spate. A slender-s… Lost footing, fell, and so was whi… ‘How he went down,’ said Gareth,…
Faint as a climate-changing bird t… All night across the darkness, and… Falls on the threshold of her nati… And can no more, thou camest, O m… Led upward by the God of ghosts a…
The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the l… And the wild cataract leaps in glo… Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild ec…
First pledge our Queen this solem… Then drink to England, every gues… That man’s the best Cosmopolite Who loves his native country best. May freedom’s oak for ever live
By night we linger’d on the lawn, For underfoot the herb was dry; And genial warmth; and o’er the sk… The silvery haze of summer drawn; And calm that let the tapers burn
‘Your ringlets, your ringlets, That look so golden-gay, If you will give me one, but one, To kiss it night and day, The never chilling touch of Time
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, And howlest, issuing out of night, With blasts that blow the poplar w… And lash with storm the streaming… Day, when my crown’d estate begun