#EnglishWriters
Baby, with those solemn eyes And that yellow hair You are very, very wise, Baby dear, I’ll swear! Give me, sweet, your chubby hand,
The day our dead are laid to rest We heap the earth upon their breas… Upon the earth we set a stone. And then we leave them all alone. Some folks they weep, and some the…
Roses, I hate you! since you stil… Contentedly, where living love is… Can fling wan fragrance thro’ this… Lift languid petals shimmering 'mi… Where love is not.
A drop of dew that on a rose-bud c… A ray of sunshine in a world of S… A bird, who singing from some hidd… Is bathed in streams of endless me… An open flower you trod on as you…
I have chosen a hill very solemn a… To shelter me. I have chosen a home very humble a… Where I would be. I have chosen a wind very fragrant…
In the meadows by the Avon, Underneath the slope of Bredon, There we often used to wander, My girl and I. All around the thrushes singing.
Oh! why is the world as it is, we… With tears in our voice, and a sig… For nothing remains but an unfinis… While beauty is only hypocrisy’s m… The end of it all—but to die.
The thought of you has filled the… The dawn with praise, Till all my senses thrill, like ro… The morning’s rays. This love of ours has clad with ne…
Sweet are the silent places of the… Green heart of woods through which… Long sloping meadows sown with sil… Old gardens thick with scents of d… Pale dome of morning, ere the firs…
Once Youth and Innocence, side by… With flaming swords at a garden ga… Stood forth in silence, to watch a… Lest lust and evil their might def… Love’s rarest fruits in that garde…
Hot with the ardour of the sun, Whose burning lips had slain the n… The golden pallor of the moon Was but an added fire, o’ercome With memories she swooned away,
I saw a row of hollyhocks, Demure and stately-tall, They peep’d above a hedge of box, Like maidens in brocaded frocks, Who nodded one and all.
Ring on! Oh endless vesper bell! What can you know of that deep He… Upon this Earth, where men may dw… Ring on! Your calling is in vain, What holy rite can lull the pain
Bredon is a lonesome hill, It hasn’t any brothers ; It stands within the Severn vale, Apart from all the others. The Cotswold Hills go hand in han…
If I should pray, my prayer would… For gratitude unlimited: For gratitude so vast and deep, That it would move my soul to weep Great tears, and all the words I…