#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Let them fight it out, friend! thi… God must judge the couple: leave t… —-Whichever one’s the guiltless, t… And whichever one the guilt’s with… II.
MY LOVE, this is the bitterest,… Who art all truth and who dost lov… As thine eyes say, as thy voice br… Shouldst love so truly and couldst… A whole long life through, had but…
AN OLD STORY. It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like… The house-roofs seemed to heave an… The church-spires flamed, such fla…
He. AH, the bird-like fluting Through the ash-tops yonder— Bullfinch-bubblings, soft sounds s… What sweet thoughts, I wonder? Fine-pearled notes that surely
Si credere dignum est.—Virgil,… Oh, worthy of belief I hold it wa… Virgil, your legend in those stran… No question, that adventure came t… One black night in Arcadia: yes,…
If you and I could change to beas… Shall you and I play Jove for onc… Shy wild sweet stealer of the grap… And thus you think to spite your f… So, all men shrink and shun me! D…
Boot, saddle, to horse and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot… Brightens to blue from its silvery… (Chorus) Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
I SPRANG to the stirrup, and J… I galloped, Dirck galloped, we ga… ‘Good speed!’ cried the watch, as… ‘Speed!’ echoed the wall to us gal… Behind shut the postern, the light…
Verse-making was least of my virtu… Wealth that never yet was but migh… If the life would but lengthen to… So I said, “To do little is bad,… And made verse.
All I can say is—I saw it! The room was as bare as your hand. I locked in the swarth little lady… From the head to the foot of her—w… ‘No Nautch shall cheat me,’ said…
Karshish, the picker—up of learnin… The not—incurious in God’s handiw… (This man’s—flesh he hath admirabl… Blown like a bubble, kneaded like… To coop up and keep down on earth…
Would that the structure brave, th… Bidding my organ obey, calling its… Claiming each slave of the sound,… Armies of angels that soar, legion… Man, brute, reptile, fly,—alien of…
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity… Draw round my bed: is Anselm keep… Nephews—sons mine . . . ah God, I… She, men would have to be your mot… Old Gandolf envied me, so fair sh…
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.
OUT of the little chapel I burst Into the fresh night air again. I had waited a good five minutes f… In the doorway, to escape the rain That drove in gusts down the commo…