#English #Victorians
May is Mary’s month, and I Muse at that and wonder why: Her feasts follow reason, Dated due to season— Candlemas, Lady Day;
No worst, there is none. Pitched… More pangs will, schooled at forep… Comforter, where, where is your co… Mary, mother of us, where is your… My cries heave, herds—long; huddle…
The world is charged with the gran… It will flame out, like shining fr… It gathers to a greatness, like th… Crushed. Why do men then now not… Generations have trod, have trod,…
Moonless darkness stands between. Past, the Past, no more be seen! But the Bethlehem—star may lead m… To the sight of Him Who freed me From the self that I have been.
My aspens dear, whose airy cages q… Quelled or quenched in leaves the… All felled, felled, are all felled… Of a fresh and following folded ra… Not spared, not one
‘But tell me, child, your choice;… You?’—‘Father, what you buy me I… With the sweetest air that said, s… He swung to his first poised purpo… What the heart is! which, like car…
What shall I do for the land that… Her homes and fields that folded a… Be under her banner and live for h… Under her banner I’ll live for he… CHORUS. Under her banner live f…
Towery city and branchy between to… Cuckoo—echoing, bell—swarmèd, lark… The dapple—eared lily below thee;… Once encounter in, here coped & po… Thou hast a base and brickish skir…
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonf… As tumbled over rim in roundy well… Stones ring; like each tucked stri… Bow swung finds tongue to fling ou… Each mortal thing does one thing a…
A buglar boy from barrack (it is o… There)—boy bugler, born, he tells… Mother to an English sire (he Shares their best gifts surely, fa… This very very day came down to us…
Though no high—hung bells or din Of braggart bugles cry it in— What is sound? Nature’s round Makes the Silver Jubilee. Five and twenty years have run
Mortal my mate, bearing my rock—a—… Warm beat with cold beat company,… Earlier or you fail at our force,… The ruins of, rifled, once a world… The telling time our task is; time…
Tom—garlanded with squat and surly… Tom; then Tom’s fallowbootfellow… By him and rips out rockfire homef… Tom Heart—at—ease, Tom Navvy: he… Sure, ’s bed now. Low be it: lust…
As a dare—gale skylark scanted in… Man’s mounting spirit in his bone—… That bird beyond the remembering h… This in drudgery, day—labouring—ou… Though aloft on turf or perch or p…
