#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Always thy book, too late acknowle… Now when thine eyes no earthly pag… Blinded with death, or blinded wit… Of love’s own lore celestial. Sma… Forsooth, for thee to read my eart…
Summer gone, Winter here; Ways are white, Skies are clear. And the sun
Your birthday, sweetheart, is my b… For, had you not been born, I who began to live beholding you Up early as the morn, That day in June beside the rose-…
To Man in haste, flushed with imp… Of some great thing to do, so slow… The long delay of Time all idle s… Idle the lordly leisure of the sun… So splendid his design, so brief h…
Above the town a monstrous wheel i… With glowing spokes of red, Low in the west its fiery axle bur… And, lost amid the spaces overhead… A vague white moth, the moon, is f…
All the flowers cannot weave A garland worthy of your hair, Not a bird in the four winds Can sing of you that is so fair. Only the spheres can sing of you;
Of all the wind-blown dust of face… Had I a god’s re-animating breath… Thee, like a perfumed torch in the… Lethean and the eyeless halls of d… Would I relume; the cresset of th…
Why did she marry him? Ah, say wh… How was her fancy caught? What was the dream that he drew he… Or was she only bought? Gave she her gold for a girlish wh…
Autumn and Winter, Summer and Spring— Hath Time no other song to sing? Weary we grow of the changeless tu… June—December,
I bring a message from the stream To fan the burning cheeks of town, From morning’s tower Of pearl and rose I bring this cup of crystal down,
War I abhor, And yet how sweet The sound along the marching stree… Of drum and fife, and I forget
Sometimes my idle heart would roam Far from its quiet happy nest, To seek some other newer home, Some unaccustomed Best: But ere it spreads its foolish win…
Sore in need was I of a faithful… And it seemed to me that life Had come to its much desired end– Just then God gave me a wife. I had seen the beauty of fairy thi…
Tell me, strange heart, so mysteri… Unto what end? Body and soul so mysteriously meet… Strange friend and friend; Hand clasped in hand so mysterious…
Little chipmunk, do you know All you mean to me?— She and I and Long Ago, And you there in the tree; With that nut between your paws,