#EnglishWriters #Victorian
TO E.B.B. There they are, my fifty men and w… Naming me the fifty poems finished… Take them, Love, the book and me… Where the heart lies, let the brai…
Nay but you, who do not love her, Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught—speak truth—abov… Aught like this tress, see, and th… And this last fairest tress of all…
That’s my last Duchess painted on… Looking as if she were alive. I c… That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pan… Worked busily a day, and there she… Will’t please you sit and look at…
But do not let us quarrel any more… No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for… Sit down and all shall happen as y… You turn your face, but does it br… I’ll work then for your friend’s f…
That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and ti… Tent of heaven, a planet small: Life was dead and so was light.
“THE Poet’s age is sad: for why? In youth, the natural world could… No common object but his eye At once involved with alien glow— His own soul’s iris-bow.
. All June I bound the rose in shea… Now, rose by rose, I strip the le… And strew them where Pauline may… She will not turn aside? Alas!
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent… Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red… Bluish 'mid the burning water, ful… In the dimmest North-east distanc… “Here and here did England help m…
Had I but plenty of money, money… The house for me, no doubt, were a… Ah, such a life, such a life, as o… Something to see, by Bacchus, som… There, the whole day long, one’s l…
Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill,
ON WHICH THE JEWS WER… ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHR… IN ROME. ['Now was come about Holy-Cross… and now must my lord preach his fi…
A. You blame me that I ran away? Why, Sir, the enemy advanced: Balls flew about, and—who can say But one, if I stood firm, had gla… In my direction? Cowardice?
Christ God who savest man, save m… Of men Count Gismond who saved me… Count Gauthier, when he chose his… Chose time and place and company To suit it; when he struck at leng…
Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the bru…
(PETER RONSARD _loquitur_.) ‘Heigho!’ yawned one day King Fra… ‘Distance all value enhances! ’When a man’s busy, why, leisure ‘Strikes him as wonderful pleasure…