#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
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…
How thought you that this thing co… What are those graces that could m… Who is not worth the notice of a s… To rouse the vapid devil of her ha… A speech conventional, so void of…
Airy, Fairy Lilian, Flitting, fairy Lilian, When I ask her if she love me, Claps her tiny hands above me, Laughing all she can;
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,
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.
Tears, idle tears, I know not wha… Tears from the depth of some divin… Rise in the heart, and gather to t… In looking on the happy Autumn-fi… And thinking of the days that are…
Live thy Life, Young and old, Like yon oak, Bright in spring, Living gold;
Once more the gate behind me falls… Once more before my face I see the moulder’d Abbey-walls, That stand within the chace. Beyond the lodge the city lies,
Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the grou… Calm and deep peace on this high w…
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flyin… Fly to her, and fall upon her gild… And tell her, tell her, what I te… O tell her, Swallow, thou that kn… That bright and fierce and fickle…
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,
Full knee-deep lies the winter sno… And the winter winds are wearily s… Toll ye the church bell sad and sl… And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying.
Ask me no more: the moon may draw… The cloud may stoop from heaven an… With fold to fold, of mountain or… But O too fond, when have I answe… Ask me no more.
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