#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
Is it, then, regret for buried tim… That keenlier in sweet April wake… And meets the year, and gives and… The colours of the crescent prime? Not all: the songs, the stirring a…
Written at the Request of the Man… Virgil’s Death Roman Virgil, thou that singest Ilion’s lofty temples robed in fir… Ilion falling, Rome arising,
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,
Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my… To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou woul… There let the wind sweep and the p…
O, were I loved as I desire to be… What is there in the great sphere… Or range of evil between death and… That I should fear, - if I were l… All the inner, all the outer world…
Deep on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour go… May my soul follow soon! The shadows of the convent-towers
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…
BANNER of England, not for a se… Floated in conquering battle or fl… Never with mightier glory than whe… Flying at top of the roofs in the… Shot thro’ the staff or the halyar…
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…
Tears, idle tears, I know not wha… Tears from the depth of some divin… Rise in the heart, and gather to t… In looking on the happy Autumn-fi… And thinking of the days that are…
MY good blade carves the casques… My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of… Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth h…
In Love, if Love be Love, if Lov… Faith and unfaith can ne’er be equ… Unfaith in aught is want of faith… It is the little rift within the l… That by and by will make the music…
When cats run home and light is co… And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round,