#EnglishWriters #Victorian
King Arthur made new knights to f… Left by the Holy Quest; and as he… In hall at old Caerleon, the high… Were softly sundered, and through… Pelleas, and the sweet smell of th…
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…
Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slow… It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to…
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…
He clasps the crag with crooked ha… Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring’d with the azure world, he st… The wrinkled sea beneath him crawl… He watches from his mountain walls…
“Then what is life?” I cried. Fro… Of soul the poet cast that burning… And it should seem as though his p… For he died soon; and now his rest… Somewhere with the great spirit wh…
Audley Court ‘The Bull, the Fleece are cramm’d… For love or money. Let us picnic… At Audley Court.’ I spoke, while Audley feast
Where Claribel low—lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose—leaves fall: But the solemn oak—tree sigheth, Thick—leaved, ambrosial,
Ask me no more: the moon may draw… The cloud may stoop from heaven an… With fold to fold, of mountain or… But O too fond, when have I answe… Ask me no more.
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-… Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, “O Soul, make merry and c… Dear soul, for all is well.” A huge crag-platform, smooth as bu…
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gon… Ruddy and white, and strong on his… And Willy’s wife has written: she… Never the wife for Willy: he woul… For, Annie, you see, her father w…
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…
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,
I have led her home, my love, my o… There is none like her, none. And never yet so warmly ran my blo… And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long—wished—…
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