#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
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
With trembling fingers did we weav… The holly round the Christmas hea… A rainy cloud possess’d the earth, And sadly fell our Christmas-eve. At our old pastimes in the hall
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
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…
Light, so low upon earth, You send a flash to the sun. Here is the golden close of love, All my wooing is done. Oh, all the woods and the meadows,
“Courage!” he said, and pointed to… “This mounting wave will roll us s… In the afternoon they came unto a… In which it seemed always afternoo… All round the coast the languid ai…
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,…
Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls Of water, sheets of summer glass, The long divine Peneian pass, The vast Akrokeraunian walls, Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair,
“So careful of the type?” but no. From scarped cliff and quarried st… She cries, “A thousand types are… I care for nothing, all shall go. ”Thou makest thine appeal to me:
Sad Hesper o’er the buried sun And ready, thou, to die with him, Thou watchest all things ever dim And dimmer, and a glory done: The team is loosen’d from the wain…
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…
Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went
O living will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer s… Rise in the spiritual rock, Flow thro’ our deeds and make them… That we may lift from out of dust
SURE never yet was antelope Could skip so lightly by. Stand off, or else my skipping-rop… Will hit you in the eye. How lightly Whirls the skipping-r…
NOW sleeps the crimson petal, now… Nor waves the cypress in the palac… Nor winks the gold fin in the porp… The firefly wakens: waken thou wit… Now droops the milk-white peacock…