#EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
Now that I, tying thy glass mask… May gaze thro’ these faint smokes… As thou pliest thy trade in this d… Which is the poison to poison her,… He is with her, and they know that…
Had I but plenty of money, money… The house for me, no doubt, were a… Ah, such a life, such a life, as o… Something to see, by Bacchus, som… There, the whole day long, one’s l…
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity… Draw round my bed: is Anselm keep… Nephews—sons mine . . . ah God, I… She, men would have to be your mot… Old Gandolf envied me, so fair sh…
Gr-r-r—-there go, my heart’s abhor… Water your damned flower-pots, do! If hate killed men, Brother Lawre… God’s blood, would not mine kill y… What? your myrtle-bush wants trimm…
He. AH, the bird-like fluting Through the ash-tops yonder— Bullfinch-bubblings, soft sounds s… What sweet thoughts, I wonder? Fine-pearled notes that surely
How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings… And where, my soul, is thy pleasan… With the music of all thy voices,… In life’s November too!
Karshish, the picker—up of learnin… The not—incurious in God’s handiw… (This man’s—flesh he hath admirabl… Blown like a bubble, kneaded like… To coop up and keep down on earth…
Ah, did you once see Shelley plai… And did he stop and speak to you? And did you speak to him again? How strange it seems, and new! But you were living before that,
I know there shall dawn a day —Is it here on homely earth? Is it yonder, worlds away, Where the strange and new have bir… That Power comes full in play?
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst Of soul, ye bards! Quoth Bard the first: ‘Sir Olaf, the good knight, did d… His helm, and eke his habergeon ..…
WOE, he went galloping into the w… Clara, Clara! Let us two dream: shall he ’scape… Scarcely disfigurement, rather a g… Making for manhood which nowise we…
All I believed is true! I am able yet All I want, to get By a method as strange as new: Dare I trust the same to you?
She should never have looked at me If she meant I should not love he… There are plenty... men, you call… I suppose... she may discover All her soul to, if she pleases,
(_Epilogue to ‘The Two Poets of… What a pretty tale you told me Once upon a time —Said you found it somewhere (scol… Was it prose or was it rhyme,
First I salute this soil of the b… Gods of my birthplace, dæmons and… Then I name thee, claim thee for… —Ay, with Zeus the Defender, with… Also, ye of the bow and the buskin…