#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to r… Uncoffined—just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around; And foreign constellations west
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…
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…
“The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahe… It’s true I’ve been accustomed no… And joints get rusty, and one’s li… More fit to rest than roam. ”But I can stand as yet fair stre…
Through snowy woods and shady We went to play a tune To the lonely manor-lady By the light of the Christmas moo… We violed till, upward glancing
I towered far, and lo! I stood wi… The presence of the Lord Most… Sent thither by the sons of earth,… Some answer to their cry. —"The Earth, say’st thou? The…
If but some vengeful god would cal… From up the sky, and laugh: “Thou… Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy… That thy love’s loss is my hate’s… Then would I bear it, clench myse…
Let us off and search, and find a… Where yours and mine can be natura… Where no one comes who dissects an… And proclaims that ours is a curio… That its touch of romance can scar…
Here by the moorway you returned, And saw the borough lights ahead That lit your face - all undiscern… To be in a week the face of the de… And you told of the charm of that…
It was your way, my dear, To be gone without a word When callers, friends, or kin Had left, and I hastened in To rejoin you, as I inferred.
There trudges one to a merry-makin… With sturdy swing, On whom the rain comes down. To fetch the saving medicament Is another bent,
I—The Tragedy She sits in the tawny vapour That the City lanes have uprol… Behind whose webby fold on fold Like a waning taper
If seasons all were summers, And leaves would never fall, And hopping casement-comers Were foodless not at all, And fragile folk might be here
I’m Smith of Stoke aged sixty odd I’ve lived without a dame all my l… And wish to God My dad had done the same.
The Roman Road runs straight and… As the pale parting-line in hair Across the heath. And thoughtful… Contrast its days of Now and Then… And delve, and measure, and compar…