#EnglishWriters
The flower that smiles to—day To—morrow dies; All that we wish to stay Tempts and then flies. What is this world’s delight?
Is not to-day enough? Why do I pe… Into the darkness of the day to co… Is not to-morrow even as yesterday… And will the day that follows chan… Few flowers grow upon thy wintry w…
The season was the childhood of sw… Whose sunny hours from morning unt… Went creeping through the day with… Each with its load of pleasure; sl… Like the long years of blest Eter…
Is it the Eternal Triune, is it… Who dares arrest the wheels of des… And plunge me in the lowest Hell… Will not the lightning’s blast des… Will not steel drink the blood-lif…
The odour from the flower is gone Which like thy kisses breathed on… The colour from the flower is flow… Which glowed of thee and only thee… II.
Once, early in the morning, Beelz… With care his sweet person adornin… He put on his Sunday clothes. II. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof…
Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on t… Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a differ… And ever changing, like a joyless…
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…
I bring fresh showers for the thir… From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves… In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews…
Emily, A ship is floating in the harbour… A wind is hovering o’er the mounta… There is a path on the sea’s azure… No keel has ever plough’d that pat…
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…
Rough wind, that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm whose tears are vain,
My thoughts arise and fade in soli… The verse that would invest them m… Like moonlight in the heaven of sp… How beautiful they were, how firm… Flecking the starry sky like woven…
What! alive and so bold, O Earth? Art thou not overbold? What! leapest thou forth as of old In the light of thy morning mirth, The last of the flock of the starr…
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…