#EnglishWriters
Farewell! I breathe that wonted p… But oh! though countless leagues d… Our gaze, our grasp, they shall no… My soul, my spirit, from thy side. Waking or sleeping, thou shalt own
Kacelyevo’s slope still felt The cannon’s bolt and the rifles’… For a last redoubt up the hill rem… By the Russ yet held, by the Turk… Mehemet Ali stroked his beard;
My soul is sunk in all-suffusing s… Yet not for any individual sin, But that the world’s original fair… My own land’s most-is not what it… Shrieks of intolerable bondage smi…
Where Apennine slopes unto Tuscan… And breaks into dimples, and laugh… To see where the terrors of Winte… And out of a valley of grape and g… There blossoms a City of domes an…
In the dark shadow of the windless… Whose gloomy glory lines the obseq… Of the gaunt Claudian Aqueduct al… The lone Campagna to sepulchral R… A Northern youth, companionless,…
Behind the curtain, With glance uncertain, Peeps pet Florence as I gaily rid… Half demurely, But, though purely,
What is the voice I hear On the wind of the Western Sea? Sentinel, listen from out Cape Cl… And say what the voice may be. ‘'Tis a proud, free people calling…
From tangled brake and trellised b… Bring every bud that blows, But never will you find the flower To match an English rose. It blooms with more than city grac…
Blithe friend! blithe throstle! I… Whom I at last again hear sing, Perched on thy old accustomed boug… Poet-prophet of the Spring? Yes! Singing as thou oft hast sun…
Hearken not, friend, for the resou… That did the Poet’s verses once a… We are but gleaners in the field o… Whence the main harvest hath been… The sheaves of glory you are fain…
Beside the Convent Gate I stood, Lingering to take farewell of thos… To whom I owed the simple good Of three days’ peace, three nights… My sumpter-mule did blink and blin…
Nay, be not June, nor yet Decembe… But April always, as I find thee… A constant freshness unto me be th… And not the ripeness that must soo… Why should I be Time’s dupe, and…
The Young Land said, 'I have bor… But can suffer it now no more; I must end this endless inhuman wr… Within hail of my own free shore. So fling out the war-flag’s folds,…
Joy! Free, at last, from vulgar t… No longer need my voice be dumb; And quicker far than thou canst ca… O Italy, I come! To feel me the adopted heir
The last warm gleams of sunset fad… From cypress spire and stonepine d… And, in the twilight’s deepening s… Lingering, I scan the wrecks of R… Husht the Madonna’s Evening Bell…