#EnglishWriters
Pet was never mourned as you, Purrer of the spotless hue, Plumy tail, and wistful gaze While you humoured our queer ways, Or outshrilled your morning call
We walked where Victor Jove was s… And passed to Livia’s rich red mu… Whence, thridding cave and Cripto… We gained Caligula’s dissolving p… And each ranked ruin tended to beg…
Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement—pain It cannot bring again: Twice no one dies. Flower—petals flee;
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…
O poet, come you haunting here Where streets have stolen up all a… And never a nightingale pours one Full-throated sound? Drawn from your drowse by the Sev…
In days when men had joy of war… A God of Battles sped each mortal… The peoples pledged him heart a… From Israel’s land to isles af… His crimson form, with clang an…
Attentive eyes, fantastic heed, Assessing minds, he does not need, Nor urgent writs to sup or dine, Nor pledges in the roseate wine. For loud acclaim he does not care
Orion swung southward aslant Where the starved Egdon pine-tree… The Pleiads aloft seemed to pant With the heather that twitched in… But he looked on indifferent to si…
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, t…
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles an… Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame
I sat in the Muses’ Hall at the m… And it seemed to grow still, and t… And the chiselled shapes to combin… Till beside a Carrara column ther… She was nor this nor that of those…
How great my grief, my joys how fe… Since first it was my fate to know… —Have the slow years not brought t… How great my grief, my joys how fe… Nor memory shaped old times anew,
Queer are the ways of a man I kno… He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And in the seaward haze
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…
How she would have loved A party to—day!— Bright-hatted and gloved, With table and tray And chairs on the lawn