#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
A storm was coming, but the winds… And in the wild woods of Brocelia… Before an oak, so hollow, huge and… It looked a tower of ivied masonwo… At Merlin’s feet the wily Vivien…
O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetes… How can thou let me waste my youth… I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into… Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare…
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…
OLD FITZ, who from your suburb… Where once I tarried for a while, Glance at the wheeling orb of chan… And greet it with a kindly smile; Whom yet I see as there you sit
You say, but with no touch of scor… Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-bl… Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil-born. I know not: one indeed I knew
Be near me when my light is low, When the blood creeps, and the ner… And tingle; and the heart is sick, And all the wheels of Being slow. Be near me when the sensuous frame
Dosn’t thou ‘ear my ’erse’s legs,… Proputty, proputty, proputty—that’… Proputty, proputty, proputty—Sam,… Theer’s moor sense i’ one o’ 'is l… Woä—theer’s a craw to pluck wi’ th…
Excerpt from “Maud” She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed;
“Then what is life?” I cried. Fro… Of soul the poet cast that burning… And it should seem as though his p… For he died soon; and now his rest… Somewhere with the great spirit wh…
O purblind race of miserable men, How many among us at this very hou… Do forge a life-long trouble for o… By taking true for false, or false… Here, through the feeble twilight…
When on my bed the moonlight falls… I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls: Thy marble bright in dark appears,
Athelstan King, Lord among Earls, Bracelet-bestower and Baron of Barons, He with his brother,
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…
The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that “this is I… But as he grows he gathers much,
There is a sound of thunder afar, Storm in the south that darkens th… Storm of battle and thunder of war… Well, if it do not roll our way. Form! form! Riflemen form!