#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
LET England beware, ere for war… She incur not the mark of the beas… That she march not her power the… Of the blood-imbued wolf of the E… It might be her gain that State t…
THE bitter wind blows o’er the de… —The bloom from the blossom foreve… And I must trudge on thro’ the sl… And sweet to my heart were the lot… Upon my shrunk bosom sleep seizeth…
YOU quite mistake the sprite you… I’m of the under, not the upper, Order of the fairy race; And cannot go with you to supper. ‘You silly elf, Titania’s self
BACK flies my soul to other year… When thou that charming lay repeat… When smiles were only chased by te… Yet sweeter far than smiles the sw… Thy music ends, and where are they…
LO the day begins to rise, And the shadows of the night, Overtaken with surprise, Blushing fly his presence bright; Cease thy briny tears to flow,
I LIKE the darling critics—like? O, how upon their work I linger, When they their weapons use to str… Not me, but some less happy singer… The treasure of their venom-bags
THE Hartley men are noble, and Ye’ll hear a tale of woe; I’ll tell the doom of the Hartley… The year of sixty-two. ’Twas on a Thursday morning, on
I’m the spirit Emmalina thy guard… Drawn hither by a subtle law but f… The golden cord of sympathy I lea… Thy aching brows with lilies to en… I have watched thee late and early…
‘SAY, whither goes my buxom maid All with the coal-black e’e?’ ‘Before I answer that,’ she said, ‘Give ear, and answer me. ’Pray, hast thou e’er thy counsel…
THRICE ‘Iö Pæan!’ let me cry, And bless the hour that I was bor… And born thro’ love in vain to sig… To cheer my longing heart a morn Has risen in my ebon sky,
O, THE bugle-horn I heard last n… Its wild tones set the echoes flyi… And night long in my soul, Deligh… Danced, danced her gift for dancin… Such tones, I swear a magic bear,
ONE day as I came down by Jarrow… Engirt by a crowd on a stone, A woman sat moaning and sorrow Seized all who gave heed to her mo… “Nay, blame not my sad lamentation…
WOULD I could waken numbers, br… Than is the lark’s song in the clo… Then would I tell you in befittin… How much the Seer is worthy of yo… Shy, sensitive is he, and far from…
LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!
DAME Malice reigns the Queen of… With wink and whisper, nod and cha… She trots along, and never fags, While she has scandal-seeds to sca… Then when her seeds are poison-wee…