#EnglishWriters
How eloquent are eyes! Not the rapt poet’s frenzied lay When the soul’s wildest feelings s… Can speak so well as they. How eloquent are eyes!
Adapted From The Vita Nuova Of… What Mary is when she a little sm… I cannot even tell or call to mind… It is a miracle so new, so rare.
O World! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had sto… When will return the glory of your… No more—oh, never more!
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…
Faint with love, the Lady of the… Lay in the paradise of Lebanon Under a heaven of cedar boughs: th… Of love was on her lips; the light… Out of her eyes—
And who feels discord now or sorro… Love is the universe to-day— These are the slaves of dim to-mor… Darkening Life’s labyrinthine way…
‘Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain; My hand is on thy brow, My spirit on thy brain; My pity on thy heart, poor friend; And from my fingers flow
Monarch of Gods and Dæmons, and a… But One, who throng those bright… Which Thou and I alone of living… Behold with sleepless eyes! regard… Made multitudinous with thy slaves…
Pan loved his neighbour Echo—but… Of Earth and Air pined for the S… The Satyr loved with wasting madn… The bright nymph Lyda,—and so thr… As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved th…
Swiftly walk o’er the western wave… Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where, all the long and lone dayli… Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear…
Let those who pine in pride or in… Or think that ill for ill should b… Who barter wrong for wrong, until… Ruins the merchants of such thrift… Visit the tower of Vado, and unle…
See yon opening flower Spreads its fragrance to the blast… It fades within an hour, Its decay is pale—is fast. Paler is yon maiden;
Arise, arise, arise! There is blood on the earth that d… Be your wounds like eyes To weep for the dead, the dead, th… What other grief were it just to p…
To Mary ' ' So now my summer task is ended, M… And I return to thee, mine own he… As to his Queen some victor Knigh… Earning bright spoils for her inch…
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken… Rose leaves, when the rose is dead…