#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
Athelstan King, Lord among Earls, Bracelet-bestower and Baron of Barons, He with his brother,
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
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…
Airy, Fairy Lilian, Flitting, fairy Lilian, When I ask her if she love me, Claps her tiny hands above me, Laughing all she can;
I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reve… And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and bra…
The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul? Are God and Nature then at strife…
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gon… Ruddy and white, and strong on his… And Willy’s wife has written: she… Never the wife for Willy: he woul… II.
Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in… Little flower-but if I could unde… What you are, root and all, all in…
What time the mighty moon was gath… Loved paced the thymy plots of Pa… And all about him rol’d his lustro… When, turning round a cassia, full… Death, walking all alone beneath a…
Now fades the last long streak of… Now burgeons every maze of quick About the flowering squares, and t… By ashen roots the violets blow. Now rings the woodland loud and lo…
Old poets foster’d under friendlie… Old Virgil who would write ten li… At dawn, and lavish all the golden… To make them wealthier in the read… And you, old popular Horace, you…
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.
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.
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes
Gigantic daughter of the West, We drink to thee across the flood, We know thee most, we love thee be… For art thou not of British blood… Should war’s mad blast again be bl…