#EnglishWriters
Blaspheme not thou thy sacred life… O’er joys that God hath for a sea… Perchance to try thy spirit, and i… Effeminate soul and base! weakly t… There lies no desert in the land o…
Night comes upon the earth; and fe… Arise the mighty winds, and sweep… In the full chorus of their midnig… The waste of heavy clouds, that ve… Roll like a murky scroll before th…
When ’twas my hap to meet you, for… Our paths together lay—and each on… Heart to feel heart, and thought t… And our brief converse has been as… Upon a sorrowful face,—sweet—sad—a…
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…
Farewell, old playmate! on thy san… My lingering feet will leave their… To thy loved side I never may ret… I pray thee, old companion, make d… For the wild spirit who so oft has…
SUGGESTED BY SIR THO… Not in our dreams, not even in our… Not in our dreams, not even in our… May we return to that sweet land o… That home of hope, of innocence, a…
WRITTEN AT OATLANDS. I SHALL come no more to the Ced… The fairies’ palace, beside the st… Where the yellow sun-rays at morni… Through their tresses dark, with a…
Two angels have them in eternal ke… He that beside the deep vaults of… Stands to receive the treasures, t… And lamentation into them men cast… Forgetting that alone they hold th…
IN MARCH 1865 A double worship hath the spring,… Triumph, and joy, and sweetness mo… For, standing on the threshold of… Your life’s star shines, full in h…
Is it a sin, to wish that I may m… In that dim world whither our spir… When sleep and darkness follow lif… Is it a sin, that there my voice s… With all that love that I must di…
At morn—a mountain ne’er to be cli… A horn of plenty, lengthening ever… At noon—the countless hour-sands p… Waves that we scarce can see as th… At night—a pageant over ere begun,
It may be that the stone which tho… From off thy people’s neck shall f… It may be that the sudden flood sh… From off the rock, whence, prophet… In God’s great future, thou dost…
I saw him on his throne, far in th… Him ye call Winter, picturing him… An aged man, whose frame, with pal… Bends o’er the fiery element, his… But he I saw was a young god, who…
But to be still! oh, but to cease… The panting breath and hurrying st… The sights, the sounds, the strugg… Of hourly being; the sharp, biting… Of action, fretting on the tighten…
It is the dawn! the rosy day awake… From her bright hair pale showers… And through the heavens her early… Why art thou sleeping! It is the noon! the sun looks laug…