#EnglishWriters
When the Present has latched its… And the May month flaps its glad… Delicate—filmed as new—spun silk,… 'He was a man who used to notice s… If it be in the dusk when, like an…
Perhaps, long hence, when I have… Some other’s feature, accent, thou… Will carry you back to what I use… And bring some memory of your love… Then you may pause awhile and thin…
I MARK the months in liveries da… The day-tides many-shaped and hued… I see the nightfall shades subtrud… And hear the monotonous hours clan… I view the evening bonfires of the…
If hours be years the twain are bl… For now they solace swift desire By bonds of every bond the best, If hours be years. The twain are… Do eastern stars slope never west,
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…
SHOW thee as I thought thee When I early sought thee, Omen-scouting, All undoubting Love alone had wrought thee—
They are not those who used to fee… When we were young—they cannot be… These shapes that now bereave and… They are not those who used to fee… For would they not fair terms conc…
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.
I say, “She was as good as fair,” When standing by her mound; “Such passing sweetness,” I decla… "No longer treads the ground." I say, "What living Love can catc…
I thought you a fire On Heron-Plantation Hill, Dealing out mischief the most dire To the chattels of men of hire There in their vill.
Plunging and labouring on in a tid… Dolorous and dear, Forward I pushed my way as amid w… Stretching around, Through whose eddies there glimmer…
You did not walk with me Of late to the hill-top tree As in earlier days, By the gated ways: You were weak and lame,
How much shall I love her? For life, or not long? “Not long.” Alas! When forget her? In years, or by June?
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 went by the Druid stone That broods in the garden white an… And I stopped and looked at the s… That at some moments fall thereon From the tree hard by with a rhyth…