#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
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…
Christ sprang from David Shepherd… From David King, being born of hi… The Shepherd lays his crook, the… Here at Christ’s feet, and high a…
MY young lord’s the lover Of earth and sky above, Of youth’s sway and youth’s play, Of songs and flowers and love. Yet for love’s desire
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…
MAGGIOR dolore è ben la Ricord… O nell’ amaro inferno amena stanza…
I climbed the stair in Antwerp ch… What time the circling thews of so… At sunset seem to heave it round. Far up, the carillon did search The wind, and the birds came to pe…
This is her picture as she was: It seems a thing to wonder on, As though mine image in the glass Should tarry when myself am gone. I gaze until she seems to stir,—
We are upon the Scheldt. We know… Because there is a floating at our… Whatso they seek; and because all… Which on our outset were distinct… Are smaller and much weaker and qu…
To—day Death seems to me an infan… Which her worn mother Life upon m… Has set to grow my friend and play… If haply so my heart might be begu… To find no terrors in a face so mi…
Never happy any more! Aye, turn the saying o’er and o’er… It says but what it said before, And heart and life are just as sor… The wet leaves blow aslant the flo…
“O HAVE you seen the Stratton f… That’s great with rain to—day? It runs beneath your wall, Lord S… Full of the new—mown hay. “I led your hounds to Hutton bank
As one who, groping in a narrow st… Hath a strong sound of bells upon… Which, being at a distance off, ap… Quite close to him because of the… So with this France. She stumbles…
“Messieurs, le Dieu des peintres”… 'Twas Rubens, sculptured. A mean… Was the next thing we saw,—from va… His drivel. The museum: as we tro… Its steps, his bust held us at bay…