#EnglishWriters
Emerging from deep sleep my eyes u… To a pursuing strangeness. O to b… Where but a moment past I was, th… The place, the time I know not, o… Far from this banished and so shru…
Gray the slow sky darkens Over the downland track Where the long valley closes Under a smooth hill’s back. The slope is darkly sprinkled
O strange, O sweetly warm Falls the sunshine on my cheek. I taste the cordial North; In the pines I hear him speak. A new, a tender charm
The wind has fal’n asleep; the bou… Is quiet; the warm sun’s gone; the… Sinks and is almost lost; Yet the April day glows on within… Happy as the white buds in the blu…
I was contented with the warm sile… Sitting by the fire, book on knee; And fancy uncentred, afloat and as… Idled from thought to thought Like a child picking flowers and d…
Soft little hands that stray and c… Like fern fronds curl and uncurl b… While baby faces lie in such Close sleep as flowers at night th… What is it you would, clasp and ho…
Pride is the untrue mask, Shame is a cloak that clings, Tenderness oft is a trammelling ve… Because of truth that stings. O to be stript, and to use
So old is the wood, so old, Old as Fear. Wrinkled roots; great stems; hushe… No sound near. Shadows retreat into shadow,
Gentle as fine rain falling from t… The first beams from the Indian m… Steal through the boughs, and brig… Glide like a breath, a fragrance v… Asoka round him sees
Sweetest of all delights are the v… Hours when breath is joy, for the… Summer awoke this morning, and ear… I rose refreshed, and gladly my ey… The entering beam of the sun that…
At Tiro, in her father’s tower, The young Cristina had her bower, Over blue Bolsena’s lake, Where small frolic ripples break Under a grove of sycamore
When old wounds bleed again In the silence of the night, And mixt with sweet delight Wells up the stream of pain, Is it less hard to endure
But from that blood, those ashes t… Not hoped-for terror cowering as i… But divine anger flaming upon thos… Defamers of the very name of man, Abortions of their blind hyena-cre…
So late the rustling shower was he… Yet now the aëry west is still. The wet leaves flash, and lightly… Great drops out of the lilac spill… Peacefully blown, the ashen clouds
Blue noon shines o’er the sea; Waves break starry on the sand; Lights and sounds and scents come… On the radiant air of the land. I am filled with the melody of wav…