#EnglishWriters
From the forests and highlands We come, we come; From the river—girt islands, Where loud waves are dumb Listening my sweet pipings.
THE world’s great age begins anew… The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn; Heaven smiles, and faiths and empi…
Good-night? ah! no; the hour is il… Which severs those it should unite… Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night goo…
The stars may dissolve, and the fo… May sink into ne’er ending chaos a… Our mansions must fall, and earth… But thy courage O Erin! may never… See! the wide wasting ruin extends…
'What art thou, Presumptuous, who… The wreath to mighty poets only du… Even whilst like a forgotten moon… Touch not those leaves which for t… Who wander o’er the Paradise of f…
Thou art fair, and few are fairer Of the Nymphs of earth or ocean; They are robes that fit the wearer… Those soft limbs of thine, whose m… Ever falls and shifts and glances
Come, be happy!'sit near me, Shadow-vested Misery: Coy, unwilling, silent bride, Mourning in thy robe of pride, Desolation’deified!
The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faith and empir…
My soul is an enchanted boat, Which, like a sleeping swan, doth… Upon the silver waves of thy sweet… And thine doth like an angel sit Beside a helm conducting it,
A woodman whose rough heart was ou… (I think such hearts yet never cam… Hated to hear, under the stars or… One nightingale in an interfluous… Satiate the hungry dark with melod…
How stern are the woes of the deso… As he bends in still grief o’er th… As enanguished he turns from the l… And drops to perfection’s remembra… When floods of despair down his pa…
If I walk in Autumn’s even While the dead leaves pass, If I look on Spring’s soft heav… Something is not there which was Winter’s wondrous frost and snow,
How, my dear Mary,—are you critic… (For vipers kill, though dead) by… That you condemn these verses I h… Because they tell no story, false… What, though no mice are caught by…
Month after month the gathered rai… Drenching yon secret Aethiopian d… And from the desert’s ice-girt p… Where Frost and Heat in strange e… On Atlas, fields of moist snow ha…
BEST and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorro… Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough Year just awake