#EnglishWriters #Victorian
COME down, O maid, from yonder m… What pleasure lives in height (the… In height and cold, the splendour… But cease to move so near the Hea… To glide a sunbeam by the blasted…
Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea,
Come down, O maid, from yonder mo… What pleasure lives in height (the… In height and cold, the splendour… But cease to move so near the Hea… To glide a sunbeam by the blasted…
I come from haunts of coot and her… I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,
First pledge our Queen this solem… Then drink to England, every gues… That man’s the best Cosmopolite Who loves his native country best. May freedom’s oak for ever live
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,…
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,
NIGHTINGALES warbled without… Within was weeping for thee: Shadows of three dead men Walk’d in the walks with me: Shadows of three dead men, and tho…
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…
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…
Sir Walter Vivian all a summer’s… Gave his broad lawns until the set… Up to the people: thither flocked… His tenants, wife and child, and t… The neighbouring borough with thei…
Oh, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final end of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of bl… That nothing walks with aimless fe…
The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that “this is I… But as he grows he gathers much,
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…
Dip down upon the northern shore, O sweet new-year, delaying long; Thou doest expectant Nature wrong… Delaying long, delay no more. What stays thee from the clouded n…