#EnglishWriters
A woman! lightly the mysterious wo… Falls from our lips, lightly as th… Its meaning, as we say—a flower, a… Or say the moon, the stream, the l… Simple familiar things, mysterious…
‘Yes, Sir, she’s gone at last-'tw… We heard her sigh from her corner,… We were all just busy on breakfast… Had just gone into the larder-but… Right up in the garret, sir, for i…
She failed me at the tryst: All the long afternoon The golden day went by, Until the rising moon; But, as I waited on,
Songs I sang of lordly matters, Life and death, and stars and sea; Nothing of them now remains But the song I sang for thee. Vain the learned elaborate metres,
There blooms a flower in Trebizon… Stored with such honey for the bee… (So saith the antique book I conn… Of such alluring fragrancy, Not sweeter smells the Eden-tree;
Brother that ploughs the furrow I… God give thee grace, and fruitful… Tis fair sweet earth, be it under… And all about it ever the birds si… Yet do I pray your seed fares not…
Saint Charles! ah yes, let other… Love Elia for his antic pen, And watch with dilettante eyes His page for every quaint surprise… Curious of caviare phrase.
Art was a palace once, things grea… And strong and holy, found a templ… Now ’tis a lazar-house of leprous… O shall me hear an English song a… Still English larks mount in the…
God gave us an hour for our tears, One hour out of all the years, For all the years were another’s g… Given in a cruel troth of old. And how did we spend his boon?
The outside of her garments were o… The lining purple silk, with gilt… Her wide sleeves green, and border… Where Venus in her naked glory st… To please the careless and disdain…
She’s somewhere in the sunlight st… Her tears are in the falling ra… She calls me in the wind’s soft so… And with the flowers she comes… Yon bird is but her messenger,
When winter comes and takes away t… And all the singing of sweet birds… The warm and honeyed world lost de… Still, independent of the summer s… In vain, with sullen roar,
We are with France—not by the tie… Of treaties made with tongue in ch… The ancient diplomatic lies, The paper promises that seek To hide the long maturing guile,
One says he is immoral, and points… Warm sin in ruddy specks upon his… Bigot, one folly of the man you fl… Is more to God than thy lean life…
Fragoletta, blessed one, What think you of the light of the… Do you think the dark was best, Lying snug in mother’s breast? Ah! I knew that sweetness, too,