#English #Victorians
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,
Oh! May sits crowned with hawthor… And is Love’s month, they say; And Love’s the fruit that is ripe… By ladies’ eyes in May.
The Orchard—Pit Piled deep below the screening app… They lie with bitter apples in the… And some are only ancient bones th… And some had ships that last year’…
Not 'neath the altar only,—yet, in… There more than elsewhere,—is the… The right sown there hath still bo… The wrong waxed fourfold. Thence,… O’er weapons blessed for carnage,…
The turn of noontide has begun. In the weak breeze the sunshine yi… There is a bell upon the fields. On the long hedgerow’s tangled run A low white cottage intervenes:
LADY, in thy proud eyes There is a weary look, As if the spirit we know through t… Were daunted with rebuke To think that the heart of man hen…
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s or Summer’s…
The city’s steeple—towers remove a… Each singly; as each vain infatuat… Leaves God in heaven, and passes.… Each soon appears, so far. Yet th… The first is now scarce further or…
In France (to baffle thieves and… A journey takes two days of passpo… At least. The plan’s sometimes a… But bears its fruit. Because, the… In passing by the Morgue, we saw…
DERE was an old nigger, and him… And him tale was rather slow; Me try to read de whole, but me on… Because me found it no go. Den hang up de auther Mrs. Stowe,
What of her glass without her? Th… There where the pool is blind of t… Her dress without her? The tossed… Of cloud—rack whence the moon has… Her paths without her? Day’s appo…
O lovely hand, that thy sweet self… In that thy pure and proper elemen… Whence erst the Lady of Love’s hi… Was born, and endless fires sprang… Even as her Loves to her their of…
Whence came his feet into my field… How is it that he sees it all so d… How do I see his seeing, and how… The name his bitter silence knows… This was the little fold of separa…
How dear the sky has been above th… Small treasures of this sky that w… Seen weak through prison—bars from… Eyed with a painful prayer upon G… To save, and tears which stayed al…
What thing unto mine ear Wouldst thou convey,—what secret t… O wandering water ever whispering? Surely thy speech shall be of her. Thou water, O thou whispering wan…
