#EnglishWriters
On the morning of May, Ere the children had entered my ga… With their wreaths and mechanical… A metal ding-dong of the date! I mounted our hill, bearing heart
Of me and of my theme think what t… The song of gladness one straight… But I have never stood at Fortune… Were she and her light crew to run… At my poor holding little would be…
Distraction is the panacea, Sir! I hear my oracle of Medicine say. Doctor! that same specific yesterd… I tried, and the result will not d… A second trial. Is the devil’s li…
With love exceeding a simple love… That glide in grasses and rubble o… Or change their perch on a beat of… From branch to branch, only restfu… Or, bristled, curl at a touch thei…
The song of a nightingale sent thr… Low-lidded with twilight, and tran… Tranced with a tender enchantment;… That wins immortality even while p…
The old grey mother she thrummed o… There is a rose that’s ready; And which of the handsome young me… There’s a rose that’s ready for cl… My daughter, come hither, come hit…
That march of the funereal Past b… How Glory sat on Bondage for its… How men, like dazzled insects, thr… Still worked their way, and bled t… We know them, as they strove and w…
At last we parley: we so strangely… In such a close communion! It bef… About the sounding of the Matin—b… And lo! her place was vacant, and… Of loneliness was round me. Then…
By this he knew she wept with waki… That, at his hand’s light quiver b… The strange low sobs that shook th… Were called into her with a sharp… And strangled mute, like little ga…
An inspiration caught from dubious… Filled him, and mystic wrynesses h… For they lead farther than the sin… Wave subtler promise when desire p… The moon of cloud discoloured was…
Of men he would have raised to lig… In soul he conquered with those ne… His country’s pride and her abasem… The Man of England circled by the…
Unto that love must we through fir… Which those two held as breath of… The hands of whom were given in bo… Whom Honour was untroubled to res… Midway the road of our life’s term…
Men of our race, we send you one Round whom Victoria’s holy name Is halo from the sunken sun Of her grand Summer’s day aflame. The heart of your loved Motherlan…
Joy is fleet, Sorrow slow. Love, so sweet, Sorrow will sow. Love, that has flown
Gracefullest leaper, the dappled f… Curves over brambles with berries… Light as a bubble that flies from… Whisked by the laundry-wife out of… Wavy he comes, woolly, all at his…