#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
LET’S contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before, Love, —Only sleep! What so wild as words are?
ANCIEN RGIME. Now that I, tying thy glass mask… May gaze thro’ these faint smokes… As thou pliest thy trade in this d… Which is the poison to poison her,…
So far as our story approaches the… Which do you pity the most of us t… My friend, or the mistress of my f… With her wanton eyes, or me? My friend was already too good to…
Man I am and man would be, Love—m… Bid me seem no other! Eagles boas… I may put forth angel’s plumage, o… Now on earth to stand suffices,—na… Here you front me, here I find th…
Stop rowing! This one of our bye-… O’er a certain bridge you have to… That’s named, “Of the Angel:” lis… The name “Of the Devil” too much… Venetian acquaintance, so—his the…
He was the man—Pope Sixtus, that… He knew the right thing, did it, a… But of all he had to thank for, my… To thinking, what most moved him w… For one day, as his wont was, in j…
Now that I, tying thy glass mask… May gaze thro’ these faint smokes… As thou pliest thy trade in this d… Which is the poison to poison her,… He is with her, and they know that…
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of her… And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of he… II.
PIANO DI SORRENTO Fort, Fort, my beloved one, Sit here by my side, On my knees put up both little fee… I was sure, if I tried,
OUT of your whole life give but a… All of your life that has gone bef… All to come after it,—so you ignor… So you make perfect the present,—c… In a rapture of rage, for perfecti…
LAST night I saw you in my sleep… And how your charm of face was cha… I asked ‘Some love, some faith yo… You answered ‘Faith gone, love es… Whereat I woke—a twofold bliss:
Grand rough old Martin Luther Bloomed fables-flowers on furze, The better the uncouther: Do roses stick like burrs? A beggar asked an alms
Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill,
Where the quiet—coloured end of ev… Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our… Half—asleep Tinkle homeward thro’ the twilight…