#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Could Juno’s self more sovereign… Than thou, 'mid other ladies thron… Or Pallas, when thou bend’st with… O’er poet’s page gold—shadowed in… Dost thou than Venus seem less he…
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…
SHE opened her moist crimson lips… And from her throat that is so whi… The notes leaped like a fountain.… Was o’er my heart: as when—a viol—… Having been broken—the first music…
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…
OH how the family affections comb… Within this heart, and each hour f… My burning soul! Neither from owl… Can peace be gained until I clasp…
'When that dead face, bowered in t… Which once was all the life years… Can now scarce bid the tides of me… Cast on thy soul a little spray of… How canst thou gaze into these eye…
AT length I sickened, standing in… Truthful and for the Truth, whose… Are madness and sharp death. I bo… And said: “As long as the world’s… These accents have been said and t…
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?
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…
As when two men have loved a woman… Each hating each, through Love’s… Since not for either this stark ma… And the long pauses of this weddin… Yet o’er her grave the night and d…
To all the spirits of Love that w… Along his love—sown harvest—field… My lady lies apparent; and the dee… Calls to the deep; and no man sees… The bliss so long afar, at length…
The hour which might have been yet… Which man’s and woman’s heart conc… Yet whereof life was barren,—on wh… Bides it the breaking of Time’s w… Bondchild of all consummate joys s…
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…
ROBE d’or, mais rien ne veut Qu’une rose à ses cheveux. A golden robe, yet will she wear Only a rose in her golden hair.
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,—