#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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 lips dost evermore present The body and blood of Love in sac… Whom I have neared and felt thy b… The inmost incense of his sanctuar…
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…
DUSK—HAIRED and gold—robed o’… She stoops, wherein, distilled of… Sink the black drops; while, lit w… Round her spread board the golden… Doth Helios here with Hecaté comb…
Those envied places which do know… And are so scornful of this lonely… Even now for once are emptied of h… Nowhere but here she is: and while… From his predominant presence doth…
“Sister,” said busy Amelotte To listless Aloÿse; “Along your wedding—road the wheat Bends as to hear your horse’s feet… And the noonday stands still for h…
Some ladies love the jewels in Lo… And gold—tipped darts he hath for… In idle scornful hours he flings a… And some that listen to his lute’s… Do love to vaunt the silver praise…
HE turned his face apart, and gav… And a strange whimper—such a pitif… As haunts the heart for days. “Ye… Unto a pass so low that it seems h… And, when we see a brave and stron…
EVEN as when utter summer makes… Bow heavily along through the whol… It seems to me whatever while I s… Where thou art standing; and upon… Thy presence weighs like a most aw…
Strong extreme speed, that the bra… Further than trees, and hedges, an… Whitened by distance,—further than… Held among fields and gardens,—fur… Haystacks and windmill—sails and r…
How sweet a solace is the bridal—b… Dawn as prepared, evening as hallo…
Behold Fiammetta, shown in Vision… Gloom—girt’ mid Spring—flushed ap… And as she sways the brances with… Along her arm the sundered bloom f… In separate petals shed, each like…
TURN not the prophet’s page, O… All that Thou hast to suffer, and… Not yet Thine hour of knowledge.… The sorrows that Thy manhood’s lo… And dire acquaintance of Thy grie…
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…
Tell me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman? Where’s Hipparchia, and where is… Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man,
