#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…
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…
Lucilla, wedded to Lucretius, fou… Her master cold; for when the morn… Of passion and the first embrace h… Between them, tho’ he loved her no… Yet often when the woman heard his…
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…
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…
Where Claribel low—lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose—leaves fall: But the solemn oak—tree sigheth, Thick—leaved, ambrosial,
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…
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,
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…
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…
A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fa… Of temper amorous, as the first of… With lengths of yellow ringlet, li… For on my cradle shone the Northe… There lived an ancient legend in o…
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, And howlest, issuing out of night, With blasts that blow the poplar w… And lash with storm the streaming… Day, when my crown’d estate begun
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…
Long lines of cliff breaking have… And in the chasm are foam and yell… Beyond, red roofs about a narrow w… In cluster; then a moulder’d churc… A long street climbs to one tall-t…
How thought you that this thing co… What are those graces that could m… Who is not worth the notice of a s… To rouse the vapid devil of her ha… A speech conventional, so void of…