#EnglishWriters
I MARKED her ruined hues, Her custom-straitened views, And asked, “Can there indwell My Amabel?” I looked upon her gown,
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…
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease sil… And though thy birth-hour beckons… Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here,
Whence comes Solace?—Not from see… What is doing, suffering, being, Not from noting Life’s conditions… Nor from heeding Time’s monitions… But in cleaving to the Dream,
'Man, you too, aren’t you, one of… All hanging hereabout to gather ho… Examination in the hall.' She flu… The shabby figure standing at the… Who warmed them by its flare.
The two were silent in a sunless c… Whose mildewed walls, uneven pavin… And wasted carvings passed antique… And nothing broke the clock’s dull… Leaning against a wormy poppy—head…
The chimes called midnight, just a… And the daytime talk on the Roman… Was checked by silence, save for t… The bubbling waters played near th… And a warm air came up from underg…
‘It is a foolish thing,’ said I, ‘To bear with such, and pass it by… Yet so I do, I know not why!’ And at each clash I would surmise That if I had acted otherwise
Why do you harbour that great chev… Filling up your narrow room? You never preen or plume, Or look in a week at your full—len… Picture of bachelor gloom!
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,
Never a careworn wife but shows, If a joy suffuse her, Something beautiful to those Patient to peruse her, Some one charm the world unknows
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,
O epic-famed, god-haunted Central… Heave careless of the deep wrong d… When from Torino’s track I saw th… And multimarbled Genova the Proud… Gleam all unconscious how, wide-li…
SNOW-BOUND in woodland, a mour… Dropt now and then from the bill o… Reached me on wind-wafts; and thus… Wearily waiting:— “I planned her a nest in a leafles…
“Soul! Shall I see thy face,” she… "In one brief hour? And away with thee from a loveless… To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt… And be thine own unseparated,