#EnglishWriters #Victorian
A city clerk, but gently born and… His wife, an unknown artist’s orph… One babe was theirs, a Margaret,… They, thinking that her clear germ… Droopt in the giant-factoried city…
The brave Geraint, a knight of Ar… A tributary prince of Devon, one Of that great Order of the Table… Had married Enid, Yniol’s only ch… And loved her, as he loved the lig…
Old warder of these buried bones, And answering now my random stroke With fruitful cloud and living smo… Dark yew, that graspest at the sto… And dippest toward the dreamless h…
Now fades the last long streak of… Now burgeons every maze of quick About the flowering squares, and t… By ashen roots the violets blow. Now rings the woodland loud and lo…
PART I On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs…
Where Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
Queen Guinevere had fled the cour… There in the holy house at Almesb… Weeping, none with her save a litt… A novice: one low light betwixt t… Blurred by the creeping mist, for…
Move eastward, happy earth, and le… Yon orange sunset waning slow: From fringes of the faded eve, O, happy planet, eastward go: Till over thy dark shoulder glow
O blackbird! sing me something wel… While all the neighbours shoot the… I keep smooth plats of fruitful gr… Where thou may’st warble, eat and… The espaliers and the standards al…
Pellam the King, who held and los… In that first war, and had his rea… But rendered tributary, failed of… To send his tribute; wherefore Ar… His treasurer, one of many years,…
Below the thunders of the upper de… Far, far beneath in the abysmal se… His antient, dreamless, uninvaded… The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sun… About his shadowy sides: above him…
I wage not any feud with Death For changes wrought on form and fa… No lower life that earth’s embrace May breed with him, can fright my… Eternal process moving on,
Dark house, by which once more I… Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to… So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp’d no more…
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes
The wind, that beats the mountain,… More softly round the open wold, And gently comes the world to thos… That are cast in gentle mould. And me this knowledge bolder made,