#EnglishWriters
I heard men saying, Leave hope an… All days shall be as all have been… To-day and to-morrow bring fear an… The never-ending toil between. When Earth was younger mid toil a…
Fair now is the springtide, now ea… With the eyes of a lover, the face… Long lasteth the daylight, and hop… The green-growing acres with incre… Now sweet, sweet it is through the…
LOVE is enough: though the World… And the woods have no voice but th… Though the sky be too dark for… The gold-cups and daisies fair blo… Though the hills be held shadows,…
Silk Embroidery. Lo silken my garden, and silken my sky, And silken my apple-boughs hanging on high;
Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin
In an English Castle in Poictou.… John Curzon Of those three prisoners, that bef… We took down at St. John’s hard b… Two are good masons; we have tools…
Love is enough: through the troubl… From yesterday’s dawning to yester… I sought through the vales where t… Till, wearied and bleeding, at end… I met him, and we wrestled, and gr…
Pray but one prayer for me 'twix… Think but one thought of me up in… The summer night waneth, the morni… Faint and grey 'twixt the leaves… That are patiently waiting there f…
Two words about the world we see, And nought but Mine and Thine the… Ah! might we drive them forth and… With us should rest and peace abid… All free, nought owned of goods an…
A STORY FROM THE LAN… At Deildar-Tongue in the autumn-t… So many times over comes summer ag… Stood Odd of Tongue his door besi… What healing in summer if winter b…
Thick rise the spear-shafts o’er… That erst the harvest bore; The sword is heavy in the hand, And we return no more. The light wind waves the Ruddy Fo…
Draw not away thy hands, my love, With wind alone the branches move, And though the leaves be scant abo… The Autumn shall not shame us. Say; Let the world wax cold and d…
‘Twas in the water-dwindling tid… When July days were done, Sir Rafe of Greenhowes, 'gan to… In the earliest of the sun. He left the white-walled burg behi…
Through thick Arcadian woods a hu… Following the beasts upon a fresh… But since his horn-tipped bow but… Now at the noontide nought had hap… Within a vale he called his hounds…
I KNOW a little garden-close Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy dawn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering.