#EnglishWriters #Victorian
That lamp thou fill’st in Eros’ n… O Hero, shall the Sestian augurs… To—morrow, and for drowned Leande… To Anteros its fireless lip shall… Aye, waft the unspoken vow: yet da…
(In the Academy of Bruges) MYSTERY: God, man’s life, born… Of woman. There abideth on her br… The ended pang of knowledge, the w… Is calm assured. Since first her…
Because our talk was of the cloud—… And moon—track of the journeying f… Her tremulous kisses faltered at l… And her eyes dreamed against a dis… But soon, remembering her how brie…
Two separate divided silences, Which, brought together, would fin… Two glances which together would r… In love, now lost like stars beyon… Two hands apart whose touch alone…
As when two men have loved a woman… Each hating each, through Love’s… Since not for either this stark ma… And the long pauses of this weddin… Yet o’er her grave the night and d…
So now the changed year’s turning… 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…
LO the twelfth year—the wedding—f… With years for months—and lo the b… Out of the womb’s rank furnace cas… And with contagious effluence seam… To hail this birth, what fiery ton…
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…
Not that the earth is changing, O… Nor that the seasons totter in the… Not that the virulent ill of act a… Seethes ever as a winepress ever t… Not therefore are we certain that…
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…
Let no man ask thee of anything Not yearborn between Spring and S… More of all worlds than he can kno… Each day the single sun doth show. A trustier gloss than thou canst g…
Sometimes thou seem’st not as thys… But as the meaning of all things t… A breathless wonder, shadowing for… Some heavenly solstice hushed and… Whose unstirred lips are music’s v…
Of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, it… (The witch he loved before the gif… That, ere the snake’s, her sweet t… And her enchanted hair was the fir… And still she sits, young while th…
In our Museum galleries To—day I lingered o’er the prize Dead Greece vouchsafes to living… Her Art for ever in fresh wise From hour to hour rejoicing me.
I. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER Give honour unto Luke Evangelist; For he it was (the aged legends sa… Who first taught Art to fold her… Scarcely at once she dared to rend…