#EnglishWriters
Sitting at times over a hearth tha… With dull domestic glow, My thought, leaving the book, grat… To you who planned it so. Not of the great only you deigned…
She is a lady fair and wise, Her heart her counsel keeps, And well she knows of time that fl… And tide that onward sweeps; But still she sits with restless e…
Lad, and can you rest now, There beneath your hill! Your hands are on your breast now, But is your heart so still? ’Twas the right death to die, lad,
His beauty bore no token, No sign our gladness shook; With tender strength unbroken The hand of Life he took: But the summer flowers were fallin…
Riding at dawn, riding alone, Gillespie left the town behind; Before he turned by the Westward… A horseman crossed him, staggering… ‘The Devil’s abroad in false Vell…
In The Time Of War And Tumults O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hand… Despair and victory give; In whom, though tyrants tread thei… The souls of nations live;
Down thy valleys, Ireland, Irelan… Down thy valleys green and sad, Still thy spirit wanders wailing, Wanders wailing, wanders mad. Long ago that anguish took thee,
O Son of mine, when dusk shall fi… Between a gravestone and a cradle’… Between the love whose name is los… And the young love whose thoughts… Thou too shalt groan at heart that…
By the hearth-stone She sits alone, The long night bearing: With eyes that gleam Into the dream
This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts o… And heard the words that one by on… The touch of Life has turn’d to t… Here in a day that is not far,
O Saint whose thousand shrines ou… And our eyes loved thy lamp’s eter… Dim earthly radiance of the Unkno… Hope of the darkness, light of the… Far off, far off and faint, O gli…
No more to watch by Night’s etern… With England’s chivalry at dawn t… No more defeat, faith, victory—O!… A cause on earth for which we migh…
Past seven o’clock: time to be gon… Twelfth-night’s over and dawn shiv… A hasty cut of the loaf, a steamin… Down to the door, and there is Co… Ruddy of cheek is John and bright…
‘Hark ye, hark to the winding horn… Sluggards, awake, and front the mo… Hark ye, hark to the winding horn; The sun’s on meadow and mill. Follow me, hearts that love the ch…
The Squire sat propped in a pillo… His eyes were alive and clear of c… But well he knew that the hour was… To bid good-bye to his ancient hom… He looked on garden, wood, and hil…