#EnglishWriters
I am alone’oh be thou near to me… Great God! from whom the meanest… Not in presumption of the daring s… Striving to find the secrets of it… Make I my weeping prayer; in the…
Sorrow and sin, and suffering and… Have been cast in the waters of my… And they have sunk deep down to th… And all that flows thence is embit… Yet still the fountain up towards…
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…
By the pure spring, whose haunted… Through thy sequestered dell unto… At sunny noon, I will appear to t… Not troubling the still fount with… As when I last took leave of it,…
I would I might be with thee, whe… Begins to wane, and that thou walk… Upon the rocky strand, whilst loud… The autumn wind sings, from his cl… Wild requiems for the summer that…
WHO WROTE UNDER MY L… Whence should they come, lady! tho… That thy fair hand and gentle hear… Upon my head? Alas! such do not r… On any, of the many, who with sigh…
Though thou return unto the former… Fields, woods, and gardens, where… In other days, and not a bough, br… Of tree, or meadow, but the same a… As when thou lovedst them in forme…
Thou art like the bird that alight… Though the frail spray bends—for h…
WEEPING BY SHELLEY’S… Lur’d by the Siren’s summer song… The Poet fell asleep’and the fi… Shrine of the finer soul, on wings… Was borne into the air; but undern…
The waterfall is calling me With its merry gleesome flow, And the green boughs are beckoning… To where the wild flowers grow: I may not go, I may not go,
The voice of childhood blessed me’… It sounded like a solemn echo caug… Out of that world of light where a… And sainted souls, who’ve bid this… Over the tempest rising in my brea…
I heard youth’s silver clarion cal… And looking forth beheld his flowe… Framed in his shining helmet as he… Sheathed in white armour, full of… Watching the coming of a threat’ni…
Flying leaves the wild Spring sca… From the silver blossomed trees, Let them fall’it little matters; Fresh-born buds will greet each br… Flying leaves, grim Winter strewi…
In the great palace halls, where d… I heard a voice filling the vaulte… The heart that uttered it seemed s… And, clarion-like, it might have m… Of the dead valley start to sudden…
Fallen from thy parent bough, Poor wither’d leaf, where goest th… From the mountain to the vale, From the forest to the hill I flutter, carried by the gale,