#EnglishWriters #Victorian
HONEY—FLOWERS to the honey—c… And the honey—bee’s from home. A honey—comb and a honey—flower, And the bee shall have his hour. A honeyed heart for the honey—comb…
In whomsoe’er, since Poesy began, A Poet most of all men we may sca… Burns of all poets is the most a…
THE thoughts in me are very calm… That think upon your love: yet by… You shall not greatly marvel that… Or nightfall—yet scarce nightfall—… Leaves me thus sad. Now if you as…
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…
Even as a child, of sorrow that we… The dead, but little in his heart… Since without need of thought to h… Their turn it is to die and his to… Even so the winged New Love smile…
Each hour until we meet is as a bi… That wings from far his gradual wa… The rustling covert of my soul,—hi… Still loudlier trilled through lea… But at the hour of meeting, a clea…
TURN not the prophet’s page, O… All that Thou hast to suffer, and… Not yet Thine hour of knowledge.… The sorrows that Thy manhood’s lo… And dire acquaintance of Thy grie…
Could you not drink her gaze like… Yet though its splendour swoon Into the silence languidly As a tune into a tune, Those eyes unravel the coiled nigh…
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’…
Sometimes I fain would find in th… That I might love thee still in s… Yet how should our Lord Love curt… Thy perfect praise whom most he wo… Alas! he can but make my heart’s l…
There came an image in Life’s ret… That had Love’s wings and bore hi… Fair was the web, and nobly wrough… O soul—sequestered face, thy form… Bewildering sounds, such as Sprin…
As the child knows not if his moth… Be fair; nor of his elders yet can… What each most is; but as of hill… At dawn, all glimmering life surro… Who yet, tow’rd noon of his half—w…
E GIOVINE il signore, Ed ama molte cose,— I canti, le rose, La forza e l’amore. Quel che più vuole
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…
From child to youth; from youth to… From lethargy to fever of the hear… From faithful life to dream—dowere… From trust to doubt; from doubt to… Thus much of change in one swift c…