#EnglishWriters
The curtains now are drawn, And the spindrift strikes the glas… Blown up the jagged pass By the surly salt sou’-west, And the sneering glare is gone
“Percussus sum sicut foenum, et ar… —Ps. ci Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring again:
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…
WHEN, soul in soul reflected, We breathed an æthered air, When we neglected All things elsewhere, And left the friendly friendless
Shall we conceal the Case, or tel… We who believe the evidence? Here and there the watch-towers… With a sullen significance, Heard of the few who hearken inten…
They sing their dearest songs— He, she, all of them—yea, Treble and tenor and bass, And one to play; With the candles mooning each face…
I heard a small sad sound, And stood awhile among the tombs a… “Wherefore, old friends,” said I,… Now, screened from life’s unrest?” —"O not at being here;
Is it worth while, dear, now, To call for bells, and sally forth… For marriage-rites—discussed, decr… So many years? Is it worth while, dear, now,
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…
A shaded lamp and a waving blind, And the beat of a clock from a dis… On this scene enter—winged, horned… A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledo… While 'mid my page there idly stan…
'There is not much that I can do, For I’ve no money that’s quite my… Spoke up the pitying child— A little boy with a violin At the station before the train ca…
Just at the corner of the wall We met– yes, he and I – Who had not faced in camp or hall Since we bade home good-bye, And what once happened came back–…
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…
TO Jenny came a gentle youth From inland leazes lone; His love was fresh as apple-blooth By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone. And duly he entreated her
Offended by a Book of the Writer’… NOW that my page upcloses, doomed… Never to press thy cosy cushions m… Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretof… Or stir thy gentle vows of faith i…