#EnglishWriters
Set my hands upon the plough. My feet upon the sod ; Turn my face towards the east, And praise be to God! Every year the rains do fall,
A little white Cloud loved the Mo… She hung in the sky all day, And gazed with rather a timid smil… To where, beneath her full many a… The earth and the loved one lay.
Hot with the ardour of the sun, Whose burning lips had slain the n… The golden pallor of the moon Was but an added fire, o’ercome With memories she swooned away,
The wind has shaken the lilac tree… And scattered their purple bloom, The wind has harassed the honey be… And robbed the flowers of their me… The wind has gathered a host of cl…
Sweet are the silent places of the… Green heart of woods through which… Long sloping meadows sown with sil… Old gardens thick with scents of d… Pale dome of morning, ere the firs…
Bredon is a lonesome hill, It hasn’t any brothers ; It stands within the Severn vale, Apart from all the others. The Cotswold Hills go hand in han…
Oh! it’s good to be alive, man. Good to take the road and tramp. When the morning smells of meadows… And the lanes are cool and damp. And the little furry creatures
If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…
I BE hopin’ you remember, Now the Spring has come again, How we used to gather violets By the Uttle church at Eastnor, For we were so happy then!
Can nothing last? No deep, intense emotion? Have all things passed, Can nothing last? ‘Yes,’ sighs the wind,
Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,
June 29th Beneath the lime trees in the gard… High above the town, The scent of whose suspended bloom Entranced the air with warm perfum…
O Raggedstone, you darksome hiU, Your shadow fell for sure Upon my own dear love and I, Across the purple moor. For we were such a happy pair,
The thought of you has filled the… The dawn with praise, Till all my senses thrill, like ro… The morning’s rays. This love of ours has clad with ne…
Roses, I hate you! since you stil… Contentedly, where living love is… Can fling wan fragrance thro’ this… Lift languid petals shimmering 'mi… Where love is not.