#EnglishWriters #Victorian
On landing, the first voice one he… An English police—constable; a ma… Respectful, conscious that at need… Enforce respect. Our custom—house… Strict too, but quiet. Not the fo…
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s or Summer’s…
Two separate divided silences, Which, brought together, would fin… Two glances which together would r… In love, now lost like stars beyon… Two hands apart whose touch alone…
A Sonnet is a moment’s monument, Memorial from the Soul’s eternity To one dead deathless hour. Look… Whether for lustral rite or dire p… Of its own arduous fulness reveren…
HERE writ was the World’s Histo… Whose steps knew all the earth; al… In these few piteous paces then wa… Here daily, hourly, have his proud… This smaller speck than the recedi…
IN her deep bosom the pride settl… That pride which is a brackish thi… And the life in her pulses seemed… About her temples for an iron crow… She set stern patience. She did n…
The wind flapp’d loose, the wind w… Shaken out dead from tree and hill… I had walk’d on at the wind’s will… I sat now, for the wind was still. Between my knees my forehead was,—
THE weltering London ways where… And girls whom none call maidens l… Miring his outward steps, who inly… The bright Castalian brink and La… Even such his life’s cross-paths;…
Behold, even I, even I am Beatri… (Div. Com. Purg. xxx.) OF Florence and of Beatrice Servant and singer from of old, O’er Dante’s heart in youth had t…
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…
HERE lies Duns Scotus Who died of lotus.
Get thee behind me. Even as, heav… Stooping against the wind, a chari… Is snatched from out his chariot b… So shall Time be; and as the void… Abroad by reinless steeds, even so…
Consider the sea’s listless chime: Time’s self it is, made audible,— The murmur of the earth’s own shel… Secret continuance sublime Is the sea’s end: our sight may pa…
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…
At length their long kiss severed,… And as the last slow sudden drops… From sparkling eaves when all the… So singly flagged the pulses of ea… Their bosoms sundered, with the op…