#EnglishWriters
How changed is here each spot man… In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps… The village street its haunted man… And from the sign is gone Sibylla… And from the roofs the twisted chi…
If, in the silent mind of One all… At first imagin’d lay The sacred world; and by processio… From those still deeps, in form an… Seasons alternating, and night and…
A YEAR had flown, and o’er the s… In Cornwall, Tristram and queen… In 3 King Marc’s chapel, in Tynt… There in a ship they bore those lo… The young surviving Iseult, one b…
In * the cedar shadow sleeping, Where cool grass and fragrant gloo… Oft at noon have lur’d me, creepin… From your darken’d palace rooms: I, who in your train at morning…
A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of Tim… Brimming with wonder and joy He spreads out his arms to the lig…
What mortal, when he saw, Life’s voyage done, his heavenly… Could ever yet dare tell him fearl… ‘I have kept uninfring’d my nature… The inly-written chart thou gavest…
Far, far from here, The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay Among the green Illyrian hills; a… The sunshine in the happy glens is… And by the sea, and in the brakes.
Hark! ah, the nightingale— The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what… What triumph! hark!—what pain! O wanderer from a Grecian shore,
The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fa… Upon the straits; on the French c… Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of… Glimmering and vast, out in the tr…
AFFECTIONS, Instincts, Princ… Impulse and Reason, Freedom and… So men, unravelling God’s harmoni… Rend in a thousand shreds this lif… Vain labour! Deep and broad, wher…
Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Gree… Long since, saw Byron’s struggle… But one such death remain’d to com… The last poetic voice is dumb. What shall be said o’er Wordswort…
Go, for they call you, shepherd, f… Go, shepherd, and untie the wattle… No longer leave thy wistful flock… Nor let thy bawling fellows rack t… Nor the cropp’d herbage shoot anot…
So on the floor lay Balder dead;… Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, d… Which all the Gods in sport had i… At Balder, whom no weapon pierced… But in his breast stood fixt the f…
I too have suffer’d: yet I know She is not cold, though she seems… She is not cold, she is not light; But our ignoble souls lack might. She smiles and smiles, and will no…
Others abide our question. Thou a… We ask and ask—Thou smilest and a… Out-topping knowledge. For the lo… Who to the stars uncrowns his maje… Planting his steadfast footsteps i…
