#EnglishWriters
Coloured like Atlantic wave To whose curve the bright air gave Splendour, and the unfathomed blue Mystery of nameless hue; If to others you but shine
Shafts of light, that poured from… Glowed on long red walls of the ga… Fell upon monstrous visions of age… Still, smiling Sphinx, winged and… With burnished breast of ebon marb…
I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, a… From rail-track and from highway,… In field and farmstead many an anc… Of local lineage like ‘Thu bist,’… ‘Ich woll,’ ‘Er sholl,’ and by-ta…
She is eight years old. When she laughs, her eyes laugh; Light dances in her eyes; She tosses back her long hair And with a song replies;
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…
Coiled in shadow, the serpent seas Engirdle perilous hills sublime: By tortuous, steep degrees Toward the morn I climb. Before me the mountain soaring vas…
Red reapers under these sad Augus… Proud War—Lords, careless of ten… Who leave earth’s kindly crops unh… As you have left the kindness of t… For brutal menace and for clumsy l…
Never were towers so fair, so bold… Passionately springing, arrogant t… Nor air so blue over roofs so old, Nor on ancient walls so rare a gol… When I found my love among the fl…
Negligently the cart—track descend… The drench of the rain has passed… Scents are abroad; in the valley a… Along the hidden river, where the… The trees are asleep, their shadow…
Because thou art nearest To the mystery of the fire That is Earth’s and the soul’s And the body’s desire, Whereof we were made
Shall we but turn from braggart pr… Our race to cheapen and defame? Before the world to wail, to chide… And weakness as with vaunting clai… Ere the hour strikes, to abdicate
The night is holy and haunted, Asleep in a vale of June. Stillness and earth—smell mingle With the beams’ unearthly boon.— Yet a terror is fallen upon me
Move onward, Time, and bring us s… From this self—clouding turmoil wh… On others’ errands driven continua… O lead us to our own souls, ere we… We toil for that we love not; thou…
All is wild with change, Large the yellow leaves Hang, so frail and few. Now they go, they too Flutter, lifted, lying,
I have too happy been. Some sad Fate envies me. An arrow she, unseen, Has fitted to her bow, And smiling grim, I know,