#EnglishWriters #Victorian
WATER, for anguish of the solsti… But dip the vessel slowly,—nay, bu… And hark how at its verge the wave… Reluctant. Hush! beyond all depth… The heat lies silent at the brink…
YESTERDAY was St. Valentine. Thought you at all, dear dove divi… Upon the beard in sorry trim And rueful countenance of him, That Orson who’s your Valentine?
“SORDELLO’S story,” the Sphin… “Who would has heard.” Is that en… 'Twere not amiss to add, has under… Who understood perhaps has profite… For my part I could tell a tale i…
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…
Love, through your spirit and mine… Now glows with glory of all things… Since this day’s sun of rapture fi… And the light sweetened as the fir… Awhile now softlier let your bosom…
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…
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…
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 place so strange,—though unre… With unimaginable fires arise At the earth’s end,—what passion o… Like frost—bound fire—girt scenes… Lo! this is none but I this hour;…
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…
THIS tree, here fall’n, no commo… Shared with its kind. The world’s… Who found the trees of Life and K… Here set it, frailer than his laur… Shall not the wretch whose hand it…
Is it this sky’s vast vault or oce… That is Life’s self and draws my… And by instinct ineffable decree Holds my breath quailing on the bi… Nay, is it Life or Death, thus th…
Mother of the Fair Delight, Thou handmaid perfect in God’s si… Now sitting fourth beside the Thr… Thyself a woman—Trinity,— Being a daughter born to God,
Know’st thou not at the fall of th… How the heart feels a languid grie… Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf…
“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