#EnglishWriters
Though summer long delayeth Her blue and golden boon, Yet now at length she stayeth Her wings above the noon; She sets the waters dreaming
High up in the sky there, now, you… In this May twilight, our cottage… Tenantless, and no creature there… Near it but Mrs. Fry’s fat cows,… Dove-coloured, as is Cotswold. No…
In the Wheatsheaf parlour I sat t… The story of Chippington street g… The squire, and dames of little de… And drovers with cattle and flocks… And these were all as my creatures…
Black in the summer night my Cotw… Aslant my window sleeps, beneath a… Deep as the bedded violets that fi… March woods with dusky passion. A… Abed between cool walls I watch t…
Where wall and sill and broken win… Are bright with flowers unroofed a… skies, And nothing but the nesting jackda… Breaks the hushed even, once imper…
To-day I have talked with old Eur… Shakespeare this morning sang for… Of chimney-sweepers; through the… Comes beating still the nightingal… The Tabard ales to-day are freshl…
Beyond my window in the night Is but a drab inglorious street, Yet there the frost and clean star… As over Warwick woods are sweet. Under the grey drift of the town
Morning and night I bring Clear water from the spring. And through the lyric noon I hear the larks in tune, And when the shadows fall
A shower of green gems on my apple… This first morning of May Has fallen out of the night, to be Herald of holiday — Bright gems of green that, fallen…
I have a place in a little garden, That laurel-leaf and fern Keep a cool place though fires of… All the green grasses burn. Little cool winds creep there abou…
Wind and the robin’s note to—day— Have heard of autumn and betray The green long reign of summer. The rust is falling in the leaves, September stands beside the sheave…
Come down at dawn from windless hi… Into the valley of the lake, Where yet a larger quiet fills The hour, and mist and water make With rocks and reeds and island bo…
Now June walks on the waters, And the cuckoo’s last enchantment Passes from Olton pools. Now dawn comes to my window Breathing midsummer roses,
For peace, than knowledge more des… Into your Sussex quietness I came… When summer’s green and gold and a… Over the world in flame. And peace upon your pasture lands…
The raining hour is done, And, threaded on the bough, The May-buds in the sun Are shining emeralds now. As transitory these