#English #Victorians
What other woman could be loved li… Or how of you should love possess… After the fulness of all rapture,… As at the end of some deep avenue A tender glamour of day,—there com…
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…
Love, should I fear death most fo… Yet if you die, can I not follow… Forcing the straits of change? Al… Shall wrest a bond from night’s in… Ere yet my hazardous soul put fort…
Soft—littered is the new—year’s la… And in the hollowed haystack at it… The shepherd lies o’ night now, wa… At the ewes’ travailing call throu… The young rooks cheep 'mid the thi…
The ark of the Lord of Hosts Whose name is called by the name o… Who dwelleth between the Cherubim… O Thou that in no house dost dwel… But walk’st in tent and tabernacle…
This word had Merlin said from of… That out of the Oak Tree Shade In the day of France’s direst dul… God’s hand should send a Maid. And where Domremy, by Burgundy,
In whomsoe’er, since Poesy began, A Poet most of all men we may sca… Burns of all poets is the most a…
High grace, the dower of queens; a… Some wood—born wonder’s sweet simp… A glance like water brimming with… Or hyacinth—light where forest—sha… Such thrilling pallor of cheek as…
Once more the changed year’s turni… And as a girl sails balanced in th… And now before and now again behin… Stoops as it swoops, with cheek th… So Spring comes merry towards me…
Eat thou and drink; to—morrow thou… Surely the earth, that’s wise bein… Needs not our help. Then loose me… Thy sultry hair up from my face; t… May pour for thee this golden wine…
The blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven; Her eyes were deeper than the dept… Of waters stilled at even; She had three lilies in her hand,
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’…
Look in my face; my name is Might… I am also call’d No—more, Too—lat… Unto thine ear I hold the dead—se… Cast up thy Life’s foam—fretted f… Unto thine eyes the glass where th…
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…
Sometimes she is a child within mi… Cowering beneath dark wings that l… With still tears showering and ave… Inexplicably filled with faint ala… And oft from mine own spirit’s hur…
