#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
LOVE, I speak to your heart, Your heart that is always here. Oh draw me deep to its sphere, Though you and I are apart, And yield, by the spirit’s art,
DOUBT spake no word in me as the… Loathing, I could not praise: I c… God for the cup of evil that I dr… I dared not cry upon His strength… My soul from weapons it was bent t…
ROSE—SHEATHED beside the ros… Lurks the young adder’s tooth; Milk—mild from new—born hemlock—bl… The earliest drops are wrung: And sweet the flower of his first…
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…
A REMOTE sky, prolonged to the… One rock—point standing buffeted a… Vexed at its base with a foul beas… Hell—birth of geomaunt and teraphi… A knight, and a winged creature be…
SWEET Poet, thou of whom these… Must one day yet the burdened birt… And by the darkness of thine eyes… How piercing was the sight within… Gifted apart, thou goest to the gr…
AT length the then of my long hop… Yet had my spirit an extreme unres… I knew the good from better was gr… At length, but could not just as y… So I lay straight along, and thru…
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’…
Lazy laughing languid Jenny, Fond of a kiss and fond of a guine… Whose head upon my knee to—night Rests for a while, as if grown lig… With all our dances and the sound
Not in thy body is thy life at all… But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…
O thou who at Love’s hour ecstati… Unto my heart dost evermore presen… Clothed with his fire, thy heart h… Whom I have neared and felt thy b… The inmost incense of his sanctuar…
What of her glass without her? Th… There where the pool is blind of t… Her dress without her? The tossed… Of cloud—rack whence the moon has… Her paths without her? Day’s appo…
WITH Shakspeare’s manhood at a b… Through Hamlet’s doubt to Shakspe… And kin to Milton through his Sat… At Death’s sole door he stooped,… And to the dear new bower of Engl…
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…
