#EnglishWriters
The golden hinges of the year have… Spring, and the summer, and the ha… Have come, and gone; and on the th… The withered Winter, stretching f… To take my rose from me;—which he…
Beside a well-reap’d field at Eve… One laid him down to rest who’d wa… And fought and wounded been in Li… ‘These have done well their work,’… ‘But on mine armour blots of earth…
Oft, when my lips I open to rehea… Thy wondrous spells of wisdom and… And that my voice and thy immortal… On listening ears and hearts I mi… I shrink dismayed—and awful doth a…
The sea has left the strand’ In their deep sapphire cup The waves lie gathered up, Off the hard-ribbed sand. From each dark rocky brim
Early in life, when hope seems pro… And strong desire can sometimes mo… My dream was of thy shores, O Ita… Of thy blue deep, that even for a… Will not forsake its spicy pine-gi…
If thou wert standing by yon tide, And I were standing by thy side, Methinks a death I could contrive… Pleasanter than the life I live. For I would lay me at thy feet,
Before my senses or my soul awake, Sorrow begins to stir within my he… Keen anguish dawns before the day… Ere fluttering birds chirp faintly… A bat-like terror flaps above my b…
Upon the altar of my life there li… A costly offering: its price I kn… The worth that it might have, its… Yet it lies there, and darkness co… It has not burned towards heaven i…
My sun went down at noon to-day, O Sorrow! For in thine eyes My sun doth rise; Then, Love, I pray,
When in my dreams thy lovely face, Smiles with unwonted tender grace, Grudge not the precious seldom che… I know full well, my lady dear! It is no boon of thine.
Silence instead of thy sweet song,… Which through the darkness of my w… Warbling of summer sunshine still… Mute is thy song, and vacant is th… The spring comes back again, the f…
False Love, take hence thy roses, Give me the bitter Rue That on my heart reposes, Sorrow at least is true. Maiden so fair and pale,
The hours are past, love, Oh, fled they not too fast, love! Those happy hours, when down the m… We saw the rosy mists of morning g… And hand in hand, went forth upon…
In sleepless nights my sad forgott… Breathes with low strains of broke… Under my touch long, long had it b… But now it sings of its own fantas… Thou hadst a spirit then that was…
I found a flower in a desolate plo… Where no man wrought,—by a deserte… Where no man dwelt; a strange, dar… Black heavy buds on a pale leafles… I pluck’d it, wondering, and with…