#EnglishWriters
I wayed by star and planet shine Towards the dear one’s home At Kingsbere, there to make her m… When the next sun upclomb. I edged the ancient hill and wood
Since Reverend Doctors now declar… That clerks and people must prepar… To doubt if Adam ever were; To hold the flood a local scare; To argue, though the stolid stare,
Here by the moorway you returned, And saw the borough lights ahead That lit your face - all undiscern… To be in a week the face of the de… And you told of the charm of that…
PALE beech and pine-tree blue, Set in one clay, Bough to bough cannot you Bide out your day? When the rains skim and skip,
I scanned her picture dreaming, Till each dear line and hue Was imaged, to my seeming, As if it lived anew. Her lips began to borrow
I wandered to a crude coast Like a ghost; Upon the hills I saw fires - Funeral pyres Seemingly - and heard breaking
She wore a 'terra-cotta’ dress, And we stayed, because of the pelt… Within the hansom’s dry recess, Though the horse had stopped; yea,… We sat on, snug and warm.
He does not think that I haunt he… How shall I let him know That whither his fancy sets him wa… I, too, alertly go? — Hover and hover a few feet from hi…
‘What are you still, still thinkin… He asked in vague surmise, ’That you stare at the wick unblin… With those great lost luminous eye… ‘O, I see a poor moth burning
I do not see the hills around, Nor mark the tints the copses wear… I do not note the grassy ground And constellated daisies there. I hear not the contralto note
Francois Hippolite Barthelemon, f… composed what was probably the mos… written. It was formerly sung, ful… churches, to Bishop Ken’s words,… He said: ‘Awake my soul, and with…
"No—not where I shall make my own… But dig his grave just by The woman’s with the initialed sto… As near as he can lie - After whose death he seemed to ail…
Some say the spot is banned; that… Attests to a deed of hell; But of else than of bale is the my… That ancient Vale-folk tell. Ere Cernel’s Abbey ceased hereabo…
Why go to Saint-Juliot? What’s J… I’ve been but made fancy By some necromancy That much of my life claims the sp… Yes. I have had dreams of that pl…
He bends his travel-tarnished feet To where she wastes in clay: From day-dawn until eve he fares Along the wintry way; From day-dawn until eve repairs