#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
How much shall I love her? For life, or not long? “Not long.” Alas! When forget her? In years, or by June?
It bends far over Yell’ham Plain, And we, from Yell’ham Height, Stand and regard its fiery train, So soon to swim from sight. It will return long years hence, w…
WHEN I look forth at dawning, po… Field, flock, and lonely tree, All seem to look at me Like chastened children sitting si… Their faces dulled, constrained, a…
The ten hours’ light is abating, And a late bird flies across, Where the pines, like waltzers wai… Give their black heads a toss. Beech leaves, that yellow the noon…
When the wasting embers redden the… And Life’s bare pathway looms lik… And from hall and parlour the livi… My perished people who housed them… They come and seat them around in…
Child, were I king, I’d yield my… My chariot, sceptre, vassal-ser… My crown, my porphyry-basined wate… My fleets, whereto the sea is but… For a glance from you!
He enters, and mute on the edge of… Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger… A type of decayed gentility; And by some small signs he well ca… That she comes to him almost break…
Whether to sally and see thee, gir… Or whether to stay And see thee not! How vast the di… Of Yea from Nay Just now. Yet this same sun will…
We are budding, master, budding, We of your favourite tree; March drought and April flooding Arouse us merrily. The stemlets brightly studding;
I saw a slowly-stepping train— Lined on the brows, scoop-eyed and… Following in files across a twilit… A strange and mystic form the fore… II
With Thoughts of Sergeant M——(Pe… “WHY, Sergeant, stray on the Ive… As though at home there were spect… From first to last 'twas a proud c… And your sunny years with a gracio…
I sang that song on Sunday, To witch an idle while, I sang that song on Monday, As fittest to beguile; I sang it as the year outwore,
UPON a noon I pilgrimed through A pasture, mile by mile, Unto the place where I last saw My dead Love’s living smile. And sorrowing I lay me down
THOUGH I waste watches framing… Some spirit to mine own in clasp a… Out of the night there looms a sen… To fail obtaining whom one fails t… For winning love we win the risk o…
A Load of brushes and baskets and… Labours along the street in the ra… With it a man, a woman, a pony wit… The man foots in front of the hors… At a slower tread than a funeral t…
