#EnglishWriters
Melodious Arethusa, o’er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of… Who denies verse to Gallus? So, w… Glidest beneath the green and purp… Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou f…
The keen stars were twinkling, And the fair moon was rising among… Dear Jane. The guitar was tinkling, But the notes were not sweet till…
And said I that all hope was fled… That sorrow and despair were mine, That each enthusiast wish was dead… Had sank beneath pale Misery’s sh… Seest thou the sunbeam’s yellow gl…
The fitful alternations of the rai… When the chill wind, languid as wi… Of its own heavy moisture, here an… Drives through the gray and beamle…
Serene in his unconquerable might Endued[,] the Almighty King, his… Encompassed unapproachably with po… And darkness and deep solitude an… Stood like a black cloud on some a…
Honey from silkworms who can gathe… Or silk from the yellow bee? The grass may grow in winter weath… As soon as hate in me. Hate men who cant, and men who pra…
I weep for Adonais –he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our t… Thaw not the frost which binds so… And thou, sad Hour, selected from… To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscu…
From the Greek. A man who was about to hang himsel… Finding a purse, then threw away h… The owner, coming to reclaim his p… The halter found; and used it. So…
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…
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…
Scene.—Before the Cavern of the… The Enchantress comes forth. Enchantress. He came like a dream in the dawn o… He fled like a shadow before its n…
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…
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.
Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save
