#EnglishWriters
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…
O muse that swayest the sad North… Thy right hand full of smiting &am… Thy left hand holding pity; &… Heaving with hope of that so certa… Thou, with the grey eyes kind and…
The days have slain the days, and the seasons have gone by And brought me the summer again; and here on the grass I lie As erst I lay and was glad
I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amidst of sleep: Who shall say if I were dead What should be remembered?
Dawn talks to Day Over dew-gleaming flowers, Night flies away Till the resting of hours: Fresh are thy feet
Silk Embroidery. Lo silken my garden, and silken my sky, And silken my apple-boughs hanging on high;
But therewith the sun rose upward… And the light flashed up to the he… But they twain arose together, and… And bathed in the light returning,… “All hail, O Day and thy Sons, a…
Wearily, drearily, Half the day long, Flap the great banners High over the stone; Strangely and eerily
O treacherous scent, O thorny sig… O tangle of world’s wrong and ri… What art thou 'gainst my armour’… But dusky cobwebs of a dream? Beat down, deep sunk from every gl…
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…
Love is enough: have no thought fo… If ye lie down this even in rest f… Ye who have paid for your bliss wi… For as it was once so it shall be… Ye shall cry out for death as ye s…
Spring went about the woods to-day… The soft-foot winter-thief, And found where idle sorrow lay ’Twixt flower and faded leaf. She looked on him, and found him f…
FROM THE ICELANDIC. The King has asked of his son so… ‘Why art thou hushed and heavy o… O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughes…
Our hands have met, our lips have… Our souls - who knows when the win… How light souls drift mid longings… If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was not long ago?
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
