#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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,
MY young lord’s the lover Of earth and sky above, Of youth’s sway and youth’s play, Of songs and flowers and love. Yet for love’s desire
THERE is a cloud above the sunse… That wends and makes no stay, For its goal lies beyond the fiery… A lingering breath no calm can cha… The onward labour of the wind’s la…
Andromeda, by Perseus sav’d and w… Hanker’d each day to see the Gorg… Till o’er a fount he held it, bade… And mirror’d in the wave was safel… That death she liv’d by.
‘There is a budding morrow in midn… So sang our Keats, our English ni… And here, as lamps across the brid… In London’s smokeless resurrectio… Dark breaks to dawn. But o’er the…
O leave your hand where it lies co… Upon the eyes whose lids are hot: Its rosy shade is bountiful Of silence, and assuages thought. O lay your lips against your hand
Around the vase of Life at your s… He has not crept, but turned it wi… And all its sides already understa… There, girt, one breathes alert fo… Whose road runs far by sands and f…
From child to youth; from youth to… From lethargy to fever of the hear… From faithful life to dream—dower’… From trust to doubt; from doubt to… Thus much of change in one swift c…
THIS is the place. Even here the… The unflinching hand, wrought on;… As on that very bed, his life part… New birth, and passed. Yon river’… Whereto the close—built coiling la…
Because our talk was of the cloud—… And moon—track of the journeying f… Her tremulous kisses faltered at l… And her eyes dreamed against a dis… But soon, remembering her how brie…
(To M.F.R.) SISTER, first shake we off the… Upon our feet, lest it defile the… Inscriptured, covering their sacre… Who lie i’ the aisles which keep t…
THE hop—shop is shut up: the nigh… Here, early, Collinson this eveni… “Into the gulfs of sleep”; and De… Has turned upon the pivot of his c… The whole of this night long; and…
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 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,—
So it is, my dear. All such things touch secret strin… For heavy hearts to hear. So it is, my dear. Very like indeed: