#EnglishWriters
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…
The lawless love that would not be… The love that waited, and in waiti… The love that met and mated, satis… Ah, love, ’twas good to climb forb… Who would not follow where his Ju…
Shadows! the only shadows that I… Are happy shadows of the light of… The radiance immortal shining thro… Your sea-deep eyes up from the sou… Your shadow, like a rose’s, on the…
On drives the road-another mile! a… Time’s horses gallop down the less… O why such haste, with nothing at… Fain are we all, grim driver, to d… And stretch with lingering feet th…
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,
Yea, love, I know, and I would ha… I know that not for us Is springtide Passion with his fi… I know this love of ours Lives not, nor yet may live,
She failed me at the tryst: All the long afternoon The golden day went by, Until the rising moon; But, as I waited on,
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…
Darling little woman, just a littl… Just a little silver word For that dear gold of thine, Only a whisper you have so often h… Only such a whisper as hidden in a…
What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears
_Illius est nobis lege colendus am… On her own terms, O lover, must t… The heart’s beloved: be she kind,… Cruel, expect no more; not for thy… But for the fire in thee that melt…
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,
In the long shimmer of the Sound May I some day be laughing found, Part of its restless to and fro, A humble worker of the tides That round the sleepless planet fl…
Paths that wind O’er the hills and by the streams I must leave behind— Dawns and dews and dreams. Trails that go
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…