#ArtsAndSciences #EnglishWriters #Epigram #Nature Music,
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…
Prince of Bards was old Aneurin; He the grand Gododin sang; All his numbers threw such fire in… Struck his harp so wild a twang; - Still the wakeful Briton borrows
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…
Sword in length a reaping-hook ama… Harald sheared his field, blood up… ‘Mid the swathes of slain, First at moonrise drank. Thereof hunger, as for meats the k…
What say you, critic, now you have… An author and maternal?—in this tr… (To quote you) of poor hollow folk… On instruments as like as drum to… You snarled tut-tut for welcome to…
He leaped. With none to hinder, Of Aetna’s fiery scoriae In the next vomit-shower, made he A more peculiar cinder. And this great Doctor, can it be,
Melpomene among her livid people, Ere stroke of lyre, upon Thaleia… Warned by old contests that one mu… Along those lips of rose with tend… Forebodes disturbance in the sprin…
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…
Picture some Isle smiling green '… Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms,… Passions and pageants; sweet love… Life in all shapes, aims, and fate… human heart.
The buried voice bespake Antigone… ‘O sister! couldst thou know, as t… The bliss above, the reverence bel… Enkindled by thy sacrifice for me; Thou wouldst at once with holy ecs…
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…
It is the season of the sweet wild… My Lady’s emblem in the heart of… So golden-crownèd shines she glor… And with that softest dream of blo… Mild as an evening heaven round H…
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…
[Iliad, V. V. 385—Dedicated to t… How big of breast our Mother Gaea… At sight of her boy Giants on the… Each over other as they neighboure… Fronting the day’s descent across…