#EnglishWriters
‘Kiss me, dear Love!’- But there was none to hear, Only the darkness round about my b… And hollow silence, for thy face h… Though in my dreaming it had come…
Men say—beyond the western seas The happy isles no longer glow, No sailor sights Hesperides, All that was long ago. No longer in a glittering morn
On drives the road-another mile! a… Time’s horses gallop down the less… O why such haste, with nothing at… Fain are we all, grim driver, to d… And stretch with lingering feet th…
What are my books?—My friends, my… My church, my tavern, and my only… My garden: yea, my flowers, my bee… My only doctors—and my only health…
Ah! did you ever hear the Spring Calling you through the snow, Or hear the little blackbird sing Inside its egg-or go To that green land where grass beg…
Sometimes my idle heart would roam Far from its quiet happy nest, To seek some other newer home, Some unaccustomed Best: But ere it spreads its foolish win…
O bird that somewhere yonder sings… In the dim hour 'twixt dreams and… Lone in the hush of sleeping thing… In some sky sanctuary withdrawn; Your perfect song is too like pain…
‘How many queens have ruled and pa… Since first we met; How thick and fast The letters used to come at first, How thin at last;
The cowbells wander through the wo… ‘Neath arching boughs a stream sli… In all the ferny solitude A chipmunk and a butterfly Are all that is—and you and I.
Poet, whose words are like the tig… Sealed in the capsule of a silver… Still at your art we wonder as we… The art dynamic charging each word… Seeds of the silver flower of Eme…
(TO MRS. HENRY HARLAND) Paris, half Angel, half Grisette, I would that I were with thee yet… Where the long boulevard at even Stretches its starry lamps to heav…
‘The old gods pass,’ the cry goes… ‘Lo! how their temples strew the g… Nor mark we where, on new-fledged… Faith, like the phoenix, soars and…
(FOR MR, G. F. WATTS’S P… Mammon is this, of murder and of g… To-day, to-morrow, and ever from o… Th’ Almighty God, and King of ev… Man ‘neath his foot, and woman ’ne…
My dryad hath her hiding place Among ten thousand trees. She flies to cover At step of a lover, And where to find her lovely face
I saw him in a picture, and I fel… He stood in line, The man ‘for mine,’ A tall silk-hatted 'guy’— Right on the call,