#English #Victorians
When buds of palm do burst and spr… Their downy feathers in the lane, And orchard blossoms, white and re… Breathe Spring delight for Autumn… And the skylark shakes his wings i…
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…
Not ere the bitter herb we taste, Which ages thought of happy times, To plant us in a weeping waste, Rings with our fellows this one he… Accordant chimes.
Through the water-eye of night, Midway between eve and dawn, See the chase, the rout, the fligh… In deep forest; oread, faun, Goat-foot, antlers laid on neck;
No, no, the falling blossom is no… Of loveliness destroy’d and sorrow… The blossom sheds its loveliness d… Its mission is to prophecy the fru… Nor is the day of love for ever de…
Long with us, now she leaves us; s… Beneath our sacred sod: A woman vowed to Good, whom all a… The daylight gift of God.
How low when angels fall their bla… Our primal thunder tells: known is… Of music, that nigh throning wisdo… And one false note cast wailful to… Now seems the language heard of L…
The hundred years have passed, and… Whose name appeased a nation’s fea… As with a hand laid over sea; To thunder through the foeman’s ea… Defeat before his blast of fire;
Two wedded lovers watched the risi… That with her strange mysterious b… Over misty hills and waters flowin… Crowned the long twilight loveline… And thus in me, and thus in me, th…
Love is winged for two, In the worst he weathers, When their hearts are tied; But if they divide, O too true!
Now, this, to my notion, is pleasa… To lie all alone on a ragged heath… Where your nose isn’t sniffing for… But a peat-fire smells like a gard… The cottagers bustle about the doo…
Under what spell are we debased By fears for our inviolate Isle, Whose record is of dangers faced And flung to heel with even smile? Is it a vaster force, a subtler gu…
Close Echo hears the woodman’s ax… To double on it, as in glee, With clap of hands, and little lac… Of meaning in her repartee. For all shall fall,
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…
O my lover! the night like a broad… Bears us onward, and morn, a black… How I shuddered-I knew not that… Till I looked on thy face:- then… Then I felt like a thing caught b…
