#EnglishWriters
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world… With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes,
THE LARK above our heads doth k… A heaven we see not here below; She sees it, and for joy she sings… Then falls with ineffectual wings. Ah, soaring soul! faint not nor ti…
HE came to call me back from deat… To the bright world above. I hear him yet with trembling brea… Low calling, “O sweet love! Come back! The earth is just as f…
As strong, as deep, as wide as is… Though by the wind made restless a… By billows fretted and by rocks co… So strong, so deep, so wide my lov… And as the sea; though oft huge wa…
‘HERE’ Soft benediction of September sun… Voices of children, laughing as th… Green English lawns, bright flowe… And over all the blue embracing sk…
White-faced Winter Roses, O’er the grave I plant you Where the dead reposes, That a soul may haunt you, And your ghostly whiteness
Watchman, watchman, what of the ni… What of the night to tell? The heavens are dark, and never a… But the far-off flicker of Hell. But the steed is in the stall,
The dews were on the hedges, The mist was on the mead, When down among the sedges I wrought my pipe of reed. I blew my pipe with power.
O CHANTRY of the Cherubim, Down-looking on the stream! Beneath thy boughs the day grows d… Through windows comes the gleam; A thousand raptures fill the air,
She turned the page of wounds and… With trembling fingers. In a brea… The gladness of her life became Naught but a memory and a name. Farewell! Farewell! I might not s…
Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live! There nothing is mo… Only to live, when flowers are at… And overhead the happy swallows tw… Only to live! There nothing is mo…
Not here in the populous town, In the playhouse or mart, Not here in the ways gray and brow… Bnt afar on the green-swelling dow… Is the home of my heart.
Light falls the rain On link and laine, After the burning day; And the bright scene, Blue, gold, and green,
An acorn swung On an oak-tree bough; So long it had hung, It would fain fall now To the kindly earth,
For rain, for rain the parched lan… Reproachful to the cloudless sky. The hot white fields in light are… The rivers in their beds are shrin… For rest, for rest the weary cry