#EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelie… Than all the valleys of Ionian hi… The swimming vapour slopes athwart… Puts forth an arm, and creeps from… And loiters, slowly drawn. On eit…
O mighty-mouth’d inventor of harmo… O skill’d to sing of Time or Eter… God-gifted organ-voice of England… Milton, a name to resound for ages… Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abd…
That story which the bold Sir Bed… First made and latest left of all… Told, when the man was no more tha… In the white winter of his age, to… With whom he dwelt, new faces, oth…
Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go,
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes
The woods decay, the woods decay a… The vapours weep their burthen to… Man comes and tills the field and… And after many a summer dies the s… Me only cruel immortality
You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till,
The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the l… And the wild cataract leaps in glo… Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild ec…
Life and Thought have gone away Side by side, Leaving door and windows wide. Careless tenants they! All within is dark as night:
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-… Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, “O Soul, make merry and c… Dear soul, for all is well.” A huge crag-platform, smooth as bu…
Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling d… That beat to battle where he stand… Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: A moment, while the trumpets blow,
The brave Geraint, a knight of Ar… A tributary prince of Devon, one Of that great Order of the Table… Had married Enid, Yniol’s only ch… And loved her, as he loved the lig…
Move eastward, happy earth, and le… Yon orange sunset waning slow: From fringes of the faded eve, O, happy planet, eastward go: Till over thy dark shoulder glow
Our enemies have fall’n, have fall… The little seed they laugh’d at in… Has risen and cleft the soil, and… Of spanless girth, that lays on ev… A thousand arms and rushes to the…
Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my… To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou woul… There let the wind sweep and the p…