#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I read there is a man who sits apa… A sort of human spider in his den, Who meditates upon a fearful art— The swiftest way to slay his fello… Behind a mask of glass he dreams h…
In vain with whip and knotted cord The hirelings of hypocrisy Would make us comely for the Lord… Think ye God works through such a… Paid Puritan, plump Pharisee,
AH, London! London! our delight, Great flower that opens but at nig… Great City of the midnight sun, Whose day begins when day is done. Lamp after lamp against the sky
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.
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…
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…
I’m not sorry I am older, love—ar… Over all youth’s fuss and flurry, All its everlasting hurry, All its solemn self-importance and… Perhaps we missed the highest reac…
I meant to do my work to—day— But a brown bird sang in the apple… And a butterfly flitted across the… And all the leaves were calling me… And the wind went sighing over the…
Beloved, I would tell a ghostly t… That hides beneath the simple name… Wild beyond hope the news—the dead… The shapes that slept, their breat… Ascend from out sarcophagus and ur…
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…
Who was it swept against my door j… With rustling robes like Autumn’s… Ah! would it were thy gown against… Only thy gown once more. Sometimes the snow, sometimes the…
(WESTMINSTER, OCTOBER 12,… Great man of song, whose glorious… Within the lap of death sleeps wel… Down the dark road, seeking the de… Thy faithful, fearless, shining so…
Dear Love, you ask if I be true, If other women move The heart that only beats for you With pulses all of love. Out in the chilly dew one morn
Stream that leapt and danced Down the rocky ledges, All the summer long, Past the flowered sedges, Under the green rafters,
And is it true indeed, and must yo… Set out alone across that moorland… No love avail, though we have love… No voice have any power to call yo… And losing hands stretch after you…