#EnglishWriters #Victorian
With blackest moss the flower-plot… Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the kno… That held the pear to the gable-wa… The broken sheds look’d sad and st…
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…
Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls Of water, sheets of summer glass, The long divine Peneian pass, The vast Akrokeraunian walls, Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair,
Again at Christmas did we weave The holly round the Christmas hea… The silent snow possess’d the eart… And calmly fell our Christmas-eve… The yule-log sparkled keen with fr…
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…
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…
What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer,
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…
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,…
Life and Thought have gone away Side by side, Leaving door and windows wide. Careless tenants they! All within is dark as night:
So was their sanctuary violated, So their fair college turned to ho… At first with all confusion: by a… Sweet order lived again with other… A kindlier influence reigned; and…
Old Yew, which graspest at the st… That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bone… The seasons bring the flower again…
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
I send you here a sort of allegory… (For you will understand it) of a… A sinful soul possess’d of many gi… A spacious garden full of flowerin… A glorious Devil, large in heart…
YOU must wake and call me early,… To-morrow ‘ll be the happiest time… Of all the glad new-year, mother,… For I 'm to be Queen o’ the May,… There ‘s many a black, black eye,…