#EnglishWriters #Victorian
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelie… Than all the valleys of Ionian hi… The swimming vapour slopes athwart… Puts forth an arm, and creeps from… And loiters, slowly drawn. On eit…
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…
That which we dare invoke to bless… Our dearest faith; our ghastliest… He, They, One, All; within, with… The Power in darkness whom we gue… I found Him not in world or sun,
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
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,
By an Evolutionist The Lord let the house of a brute… And the man said, ‘Am I your debt… And the Lord–‘Not yet; but make i… And then I will let you a better.…
Dosn’t thou ‘ear my ’erse’s legs,… Proputty, proputty, proputty—that’… Proputty, proputty, proputty—Sam,… Theer’s moor sense i’ one o’ 'is l… Woä—theer’s a craw to pluck wi’ th…
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…
Now, scarce three paces measured f… We stumbled on a stationary voice, And ‘Stand, who goes?’ 'Two from… ‘The second two: they wait,’ he s… His Highness wakes:’ and one, tha…
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in… Had made mock-knight of Arthur’s… At Camelot, high above the yellow… Danced like a withered leaf before… And toward him from the hall, with…
Beautiful city Beautiful city, the centre and cra… O you with your passionate shriek… humanity, How often your Re-volution has pr…
When on my bed the moonlight falls… I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls: Thy marble bright in dark appears,
Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling d… That beat to battle where he stand… Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: A moment, while the trumpets blow,
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…
You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till,