#English #Victorians #XIXCentury
What soul would bargain for a cure… Contempt the nobler agony to kill? Rather let me bear on the bitter i… And strike this rusty bosom with n… It seems there is another veering…
Lakes where the sunsheen is mystic… Vales where sweet life is all Sum… Forests that glimmer with twilight… Here in our May-blood we wander,… knights.
Avert, High Wisdom, never vainly… This threat of War, that shows a… When nations gain the pitch where… Seems reason they are ripe for can… Dark looms the issue though the ca…
O skylark! I see thee and call th… Thy wings bear thee up to the brea… I see thee no more, but thy song i… The tongue of the heavens to me! Thus are the days when I was a bo…
He found her by the ocean’s moanin… Nor any wicked change in her disce… And she believed his old love had… Which was her exultation, and her… She took his hand, and walked with…
Cistercians might crack their side… With laughter, and exemption get, At sight of heroes clasping brides… And hearing—O the horn! the horn! The horn of their obstructive debt…
Hawk or shrike has done this deed Of downy feathers: rueful sight! Sweet sentimentalist, invite Your bosom’s Power to intercede. So hard it seems that one must ble…
I am not of those miserable males Who sniff at vice and, daring not… Do therefore hope for heaven. I t… Of all my deeds. The wind that fi… Propels; but I am helmsman. Am I…
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…
Earth was not Earth before her so… Nor Beauty Beauty ere young Love… And thou when I lay hidden wast a… At city-windows, touching eyelids… To none by her fresh wingedness en…
She can be as wise as we, And wiser when she wishes; She can knit with cunning wit, And dress the homely dishes. She can flourish staff or pen,
[From the Mireio of Mistral] A hundred mares, all white! their… Like mace-reed of the marshy plain… Thick-tufted, wavy, free o’ the sh… And when the fiery squadron rears
The Tyrant passed, and friendlier… On the great man of Athens, whom… He knew, than on the sycophantic f… That broke as waters round a galle… Bubbles at prow and foam along the…
Madam would speak with me. So, no… The Deluge or else Fire! She’s w… My husbandship. Our chain on sile… Time leers between, above his twid… Am I quite well? Most excellent i…
Love within the lover’s breast Burns like Hesper in the west, O’er the ashes of the sun, Till the day and night are done; Then when dawn drives up her car -
