#Americans #Victorians
When one is young and eager, A bejant and a boy, Though his moustache be meagre, That cannot mar his joy When at the Competition
Golden dream of summer morn, By a well-remembered stream In the land where I was born, Golden dream! Ripples, by the glancing beam
The city once again doth wear Her wonted dress of winter’s bride… Her mantle woven of misty air, With saffron sunlight faintly dyed… She sits above the seething tide,
The Red King’s gone a-hunting, in… For the tall red deer to wander th… The King and Walter Tyrrel, Prin… Are all gone out upon the sport th… Last night, when they were feastin…
There was a time when it was count… To be a patriot—whether by the zea… Of peaceful labour for the country… Or by the courage in her cause to… FOR KING AND COUNTRY was a…
It seems a little word to say - FAREWELL—but may it not, when… Be like the kiss we give the dead, Before they pass the doors for aye… Who knows if, on some after day,
Here, where the thoroughfares meet… Of ninety degrees (this angle is r… You may hear the loafers that jest… Through the sun-lit day and the la… Though day be dreary and night be…
The mist hangs round the College… The ghostly street Is silent at this midnight hour, Save for my feet. With none to see, with none to hea…
I have been lonely all my days on… Living a life within my secret sou… With mine own springs of sorrow an… Beyond the world’s control. Though sometimes with vain longing…
Ah yes, we know what you’re saying… As your eye glances over these No… ‘What asses are these that are bra… With flat and unmusical throats? Who writes such unspeakable patter…
Dear Ritchie, I am waiting for th… And tell me that the visit which h… Is to be a thing of now, and no mo… Dear Ritchie, I am waiting. The sea is at its bluest, and the…
Early on Christmas Day, Love, as awake I lay, And heard the Christmas bells rin… My heart stole through the gloom Into your silent room,
My lamp is out, my task is done, And up the stair with lingering fe… I climb. The staircase clock stri… Good night, my love! good night, m… My solitary room I gain.
Lost Youth, come back again! Laugh at weariness and pain. Come not in dreams, but come in tr… Lost Youth. Sweetheart of long ago,
The air is dark and fragrant With memories of a shower, And sanctified with stillness By this most holy hour. The leaves forget to whisper