#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
THE groundflame of the crocus bre… Fair Spring slides hither o’er th… Wavers on her thin stem the snowdr… That trembles not to kisses of the… Come Spring, for now from all the…
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the… When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems as…
1. Is it the wind of the dawn that… in the pine overhead? 2. No; but the voice of the deep a… the cliffs of the land. 1. Is there a voice coming up with…
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flow… Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted…
Our enemies have fall’n, have fall… The little seed they laugh’d at in… Has risen and cleft the soil, and… Of spanless girth, that lays on ev… A thousand arms and rushes to the…
Love is and was my Lord and King, And in his presence I attend To hear the tidings of my friend, Which every hour his couriers brin… Love is and was my King and Lord,
Come down, O maid, from yonder mo… What pleasure lives in height (the… In height and cold, the splendour… But cease to move so near the Hea… To glide a sunbeam by the blasted…
Dark house, by which once more I… Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to… So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp’d no more…
O you chorus of indolent reviewers… Irresponsible, indolent reviewers, Look, I come to the test, a tiny… All composed in a metre of Catull… All in quantity, careful of my mot…
Home they brought her warrior dead… She nor swoon’d nor utter’d cry: All her maidens, watching, said, “She must weep or she will die.” Then they praised him, soft and lo…
To—night ungather’d let us leave This laurel, let this holly stand: We live within the stranger’s land… And strangely falls our Christmas… Our father’s dust is left alone
Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slow… It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to…
PART I On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs…
As thro’ the land at eve we went, And pluck’d the ripen’d ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss’d again with tears.
To—night the winds begin to rise And roar from yonder dropping day: The last red leaf is whirl’d away, The rooks are blown about the skie… The forest crack’d, the waters cur…