#EnglishWriters
No more now with jealous complaini… Shall you be vext; nor I with fea… Torture my heart: my heart is secu… And laughs at follies of former te… No more now with the endless paini…
The beeches towering high Greenly cloud the sky. The shadows all are green With living sun unseen. O wonderful the sound
A hundred autumns fallen in fire To dust and mould Have faded from their perished gol… To throne thee higher, O Titan pine, that soarest straig…
So old is the wood, so old, Old as Fear. Wrinkled roots; great stems; hushe… No sound near. Shadows retreat into shadow,
Nothing of itself is in the still’… A still submission to each exterio… Still as a pool, accepting trees a… A candid mirror that never a breat… Nor drifted leaf,—as if of a singl…
When all the world is hidden And there is only you, When bosom beats to bosom As if the heart broke through, O never speech nor language
Peacefully fresh, O February morn… Thy winds come to me: quiet the li… Through silver—bosomed clouds, tha… Across the wide heath, endlessly a… Now ’tis that pause before the lea…
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
When the long—clouded spirit of E… Life from Greek springs, frost co… And old truth shone like fresh daw… Our Founder sowed his pregnant se… No crabbed rule but rather chose a…
Out of the pale night air, From wandering lone in the warm sc… The sighing, shadowy, bright solit… Of leafy glade, and the rough upla… To thee I come, a branch
Within, the pillars soar to gloom Lit by the glimmering Rose ; Spirits of beauty shrined in stone Afar from mortal woes, Hearing not, though their haunted…
What is the spirit’s desire, Sprung, springing, singing, Fountain—fresh, rainbowed over wit… The inner dishevelled crystal, sta… To sevenfold changes of fire?
Night smiles on me with her stars, Mystic, pure, enchanted, lone. Light, that only heaven discloses, Is in heaven that no cloud mars; Here, through murmuring darkness b…
Peace in smooth summer hour Paces the seas awhile; But Peace has built her tower Upon this chosen isle. Scarcely a ripple stirs
Familiar, year by year, to the cre… Is the long road’s level ridge abo… To—day a battery comes with horses… On the straight road, that under t… At leisurely pace, the guns with m…