#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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
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…
I DID not look upon her eyes, (Though scarcely seen, with no sur… 'Mid many eyes a single look,) Because they should not gaze rebuk… At night, from stars in sky and br…
HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta’s q… (O Troy Town!) Had two breasts of heavenly sheen, The sun and moon of the heart’s de… All Love’s lordship lay between.
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…
When vain desire at last and vain… Go hand in hand to death, and all… What shall assuage the unforgotten… And teach the unforgetful to forge… Shall Peace be still a sunk strea…
Not by one measure mayst thou mete… For how should I be loved as I lo… I, graceless, joyless, lacking abs… All gifts that with thy queenship… Thou, throned in every heart’s ele…
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…
The gloom that breathes upon me wi… Is like the drops which strike the… Who knows not, darkling, if they b… Fresh storm, or be old rain the co… Ah! bodes this hour some harvest o…
I never reared a young Wombat To glad me with his pin—hole eye, But when he most was sweet & fat And tail—less; he was sure to die!
When first that horse, within whos… The birth was death, o’ershadowed… Her elders, dubious of its Grecia… Brought Helen there to sing the s… She whispered, “Friends, I am alo…
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…
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…
Girt in dark growths, yet glimmeri… O night desirous as the nights of… Why should my heart within thy spe… Now beat, as the bride’s finger—pu… Quickened within the girdling gold…
Bless love and hope. Full many a… Whirled past us, eddying to its ch… And clasped together where the blo… We long have knelt and wept full m… Yet lo! one hour at last, the Spr…