#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
“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…
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none ot… And she was the fairest of all fle… Guinevere, and in her his one deli… For many a petty king ere Arthur…
Old Yew, which graspest at the st… That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bone… The seasons bring the flower again…
Roman Virgil, thou that singest Ilion’s lofty temples robed in fir… Ilion falling, Rome arising, wars, and filial faith, and Dido’s… Landscape—lover, lord of language
Strong Son of God, immortal Love… Whom we, that have not seen thy fa… By faith, and faith alone, embrace… Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and…
That story which the bold Sir Bed… First made and latest left of all… Told, when the man was no more tha… In the white winter of his age, to… With whom he dwelt, new faces, oth…
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…
O Sorrow, cruel fellowship, O Priestess in the vaults of Deat… O sweet and bitter in a breath, What whispers from thy lying lip? “The stars,” she whispers, “blindl…
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…
It is the miller’s daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles in her ear: For hid in ringlets day and night,
Morn in the wake of the morning st… Came furrowing all the orient into… We rose, and each by other drest w… Descended to the court that lay th… In shadow, but the Muses’ heads w…
The sun, the moon, the stars, the… Are not these, O Soul, the Visio… Is not the Vision He, tho’ He be… Dreams are true while they last, a… Earth, these solid stars, this wei…
With blackest moss the flower-plot… Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the kno… That held the pear to the gable-wa… The broken sheds look’d sad and st…
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…
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.