#EnglishWriters
Time hangs suspended 'mid the perf… With limpid wings, o’er which the… Gleams like a tear, within the ten… Desirous eyes of love-lorn Destin… The earth is dumb, the scents of m…
I see’d yer turn the other day To watch a chap go by, Because he wore a uniform, And held his shoulders high. And then yer wouldn’t even smile.
Kind Earth, upon whose mother bre… The fruitful trees in time of spri… Put forth their endless blossoming From North to South, from East t… Whose sweet deep-furrowed soil is…
Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,
Oh! why let all these winged days… Will you not give me leave with th… To taste the sweets of our new par… Beyond the outer dark where fate h… Must we for ever see the golden po…
Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.
I BE hopin’ you remember, Now the Spring has come again, How we used to gather violets By the Uttle church at Eastnor, For we were so happy then!
In the bowl of a shell Sings the wonderful song of the se… All the ebb and the swell, In the bowl of a shell. In the heart; of a pool
O Casend Hill, I be so heavy-hea… So lonesome-hke since from my love… That when the bracken on your side… And all the mating thrushes start… A kind of fear across my mind come…
A RIPPLE and a rush, and a mati… And, oh! the month must be at May… A blossom and a tree, and a honey-… And, oh! it’s such a perfect day! A meeting and a smile, and a sunli…
Lime-trees meeting overhead, Many lovers cold and dead. Kissed and loved, and kissed again… In the sunshine and the rain. Underneath your scented green.
The blossoms of a Judas tree Deep pink against an azure sea, A silver moth on thoughtless vving… A hidden bird that hghts to sing, A little cloud that wanders by.
Oh! golden is the gorse-bush. Beneath an April sky, The lark is full of singing, The clouds are white and high ; But my love, my love is faithless.
I often think that all those vast… For purer joys, that thrill the hu… Vague yearnings such as solitude i… That nameless something silence ca… Could after all be quenched by sim…
The Moon looked in at the window, And smiled as I wrote to you, She lay like a frail white maiden, In shadowy folds of blue. Her bosom was bare and tender,
