#EnglishWriters
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…
Full faith I have she holds that… To beauty, Common Sense. To see… With her fair visage an inverted s… Bloom-covered, while the underlids… Would almost wreck the faith; but…
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…
[Iliad, B. XIV. V. 394] Not the sea-wave so bellows abroad… Whipped from the sea’s deeps up by… Nay, nor is ever the roar of the f… Down along mountain-glades, when i…
He who has looked upon Earth Deeper than flower and fruit, Losing some hue of his mirth, As the tree striking rock at the r… Unto him shall the marvellous tale
Am I failing? For no longer can… A glory round about this head of g… Glory she wears, but springing fro… Not like the consecration of the… Is my soul beggared? Something mo…
He felt the wild beast in him betw… So masterfully rude, that he would… To see the helpless delicate thing… His guardianship through certain d… Had he not teeth to rend, and hung…
Not solitarily in fields we find Earth’s secret open, though one pa… Her plainest, such as children spe… With bird and beast; raised letter… Not where the troubled passions to…
Between the fountain and the rill I passed, and saw the mighty will To leap at sky; the careless run, As earth would lead her little son… Beneath them throbs an urgent well…
He leads: we hear our Seaman’s ca… In the roll of battles won; For he is Britain’s Admiral Till setting of her sun. When Britain’s life was in her sh…
Two flower-enfolding crystal vases… I love fills daily, mindful but of… And close behind pale morn she, li… Priming our world with light, pour… Clear water in the cup, and into m…
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…
On my darling’s bosom Has dropped a living rosy bud, Fair as brilliant Hesper Against the brimming flood. She handles him,
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…
From twig to twig the spider weave… At noon his webbing fine. So near to mute the zephyrs flute That only leaflets dance. The sun draws out of hazel leaves