#English #Victorians
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…
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,—
She hath the apple in her hand for… Yet almost in her heart would hold… She muses, with her eyes upon the… Of that which in thy spirit they c… Haply, “Behold, he is at peace,”…
These coins that jostle on my hand… No single image: each name here an… Denoting in man’s consciousness an… New change. In some, the face is… In others marred. The badge of th…
As growth of form or momentary gla… In a child’s features will recall… The father’s with the mother’s fac… Sweet interchange that memories st… And yet, as childhood’s years and…
ENTER Skald, moored in a punt, And jacks and tenches exeunt.
By what word’s power, the key of p… Shall I the difficult deeps of Lo… Till parted waves of Song yield u… Even as that sea which Israel cro… For lo! in some poor rhythmic peri…
Thin are the night-skirts left beh… By daybreak hours that onward cree… And thin, alas! the shred of sleep That wavers with the spirit’s wind… But in half-dreams that shift and…
Upon a Flemish road, when noon wa… I passed a little consecrated shri… Where, among simple pictures range… The blessed Mary holds her child… To kneel here, shepherd—maidens le…
AS he that loves oft looks on the… And guesses how it grew to womanho… And gladly would have watched the… And the mild fire of precious life… So I, long bound within the three…
Chins that might serve the new Je… Streets footsore; minute whisking… Dubbed graceful, but at whom one’s… Knowing of England; ladies, much… Bland smiling dogs with manes—a fe…
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…
OF her I thought who now is gone… And, the thought passing over, to… Was like a fall from spirit into s… Or from the heaven of heavens to s… None other than Love’s self ordai…
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…
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…
