#EnglishWriters
Like a flower in the frost Sweet Jenny lies, With her frail hands calmly crosse… And close-shut eyes. Bring a candle, for the room
The loveliest face! I turned to h… Shut in 'mid savage rocks and tree… ’Twas in the May-time of the year… And our two hearts were filled wit… And pointed where a wild-rose grew…
You must mean more than just this… You perfect thing so subtly fair, Simple and complex as a flower, Wrought with such planetary care; How patient the eternal power
When the Sun and the Golden Day Hand in hand are gone away, At your door shall Sleep and Nigh… Come and knock in the fair twiligh… Let them in, twin travellers blest…
(WITH APOLOGIES TO ARIEL… Five inches deep Sir Goldfish lie… Here last September was he laid, Poppies these that were his eyes, Of fish-bones were these bluebells…
One asked of regret, And I made reply: To have held the bird, And let it fly; To have seen the star
(TO JOHN FRASER) There, in my mind’s-eye, pure it l… My lodger’s vote! ’Twas mine to-d… It seemed a sort of maidenhood, My little power for public good,—
And is it true indeed, and must yo… Set out alone across that moorland… No love avail, though we have love… No voice have any power to call yo… And losing hands stretch after you…
The dead arose. Long had they dre… Deep in the grass of the still gra… Of meeting their beloved once more… They knocked at each familiar door… They waited eagerly to see
My door is always left ajar, Lest you should suddenly slip thro… A little breathless frightened sta… Each footfall sets my heart abeat, I always think it may be you,
Shadows! the only shadows that I… Are happy shadows of the light of… The radiance immortal shining thro… Your sea-deep eyes up from the sou… Your shadow, like a rose’s, on the…
Singers all along the street, Singing every kind of song– One man’s song is honey-sweet, One man’s song is hammer-strong; Yet, however sweet the singing,
I know not in what place again I’… The face I love-but there is not… In the wide world where you can wa… Without my finding you, with those… Nor is there any star in all the s…
The woods we used to walk, my love… Are woods no more, But’ villas’ now with sounding nam… All name and door. The pond, where, early on in Marc…
Always thy book, too late acknowle… Now when thine eyes no earthly pag… Blinded with death, or blinded wit… Of love’s own lore celestial. Sma… Forsooth, for thee to read my eart…