#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Here meet together the prefiguring… And day prefigured. “Eating, thou… Feet shod, loins girt, thy road—st… With blood—stained door and lintel… By Moses’ mouth in ages passed aw…
How large that thrush looks on the… A swarm of such, three little mont… Had hidden in the leaves and let n… Save by the outburst of their mins… A white flake here and there—a sno…
THROUGH one, years since hanged… Who stabbed backs by the Quarter, Here lieth one who—while Time’s s… Runneth, as God hath taught her, Bearing man’s fame to men,—will ha…
The changing guests, each in a dif… Sit at the roadside table and aris… And every life among them in like… Is a soul’s board set daily with n… What man has bent o’er his son’s s…
MAGGIOR dolore è ben la Ricord… O nell’ amaro inferno amena stanza…
Chins that might serve the new Je… Streets footsore; minute whisking… Dubbed graceful, but at whom one’s… Knowing of England; ladies, much… Bland smiling dogs with manes—a fe…
This is that blessed Mary, pre—el… God’s Virgin. Gone is a great whi… Dwelt young in Nazareth of Galile… Unto God’s will she brought devou… Profound simplicity of intellect,
Great Michelangelo, with age grow… And uttermost labours, having once… All grievous memories on his long… This worst regret to one true hear… That when, with sorrowing love and…
Think thou and act; to—morrow thou… Outstretch’d in the sun’s warmth u… Thou say’st: “Man’s measur’d path… Up all his years, steeply, with st… Man clomb until he touch’d the tru…
WATER, for anguish of the solsti… But dip the vessel slowly,—nay, bu… And hark how at its verge the wave… Reluctant. Hush! beyond all depth… The heat lies silent at the brink…
Get thee behind me. Even as, heav… Stooping against the wind, a chari… Is snatched from out his chariot b… So shall Time be; and as the void… Abroad by reinless steeds, even so…
Woolner and Stephens, Collinson,… And my first brother, each and eve… What portion is theirs now beneath… Which, even as here, in England m… For most of them life runs not the…
‘There is a budding morrow in midn… So sang our Keats, our English ni… And here, as lamps across the brid… In London’s smokeless resurrectio… Dark breaks to dawn. But o’er the…
“DIGITUM tuum, Thoma, Infer, et vide manûs! Manum tuam, Thoma, Affer, et mitte in latus.” “Dominus et Deus,
The mother will not turn, who thin… Her nursling’s speech first grow a… But breathless with averted eyes e… She sits, with open lips and open… That it may call her twice. 'Mid…
