#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I would that folk forgot me quite, Forgot me quite! I would that I could shrink from… And no more see the sun. Would it were time to say farewell…
She charged me with having said th… To another woman long years before… In the very parlour where we sat,… Sat on a night when the endless po… Of rain on the roof and the road b…
South of the Line, inland from fa… A mouldering soldier lies—your cou… Awry and doubled up are his gray b… And on the breeze his puzzled phan… Nightly to clear Canopus: “I wou…
At Westminster, hid from the ligh… Many who once had shone as monarch… Edward the Pious, and two Edwards… The second Richard, Henrys three… That is to say, those who were cal…
Dear Lizbie Browne, Where are you now? In sun, in rain? - Or is your brow Past joy, past pain,
Sunned in the South, and here to-… —If all organic things Be sentient, Flowers, as some men… What are your ponderings? How can you stay, nor vanish quite
Nobody says: Ah, that is the plac… Where chanced, in the hollow of ye… What none of the Three Towns care… The birth of a little girl of grac… The sweetest the house saw, first…
Who, then, was Cestius, And what is he to me? - Amid thick thoughts and memories m… One thought alone brings he. I can recall no word
There is a house with ivied walls, And mullioned windows worn and old… And the long dwellers in those hal… Have souls that know but sordid ca… And dote on gold.
Somewhere afield here something li… In Earth’s oblivious eyeless trus… That moved a poet to prophecies - A pinch of unseen, unguarded dust The dust of the lark that Shelley…
I traced the Circus whose gray st… Where Rome and dim Etruria interj… Till came a child who showed an an… That bore the image of a Constant… She lightly passed; nor did she on…
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…
It faces west, and round the back… High beeches, bending, hang a veil… And sweep against the roof. Wild… Climb on the walls, and seem to sp… (If we may fancy wish of trees and…
Song of the Soldiers What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray,
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…