#EnglishWriters
IT was the very heart of Peace th… In the deep minster-bell’s wide-th… When over old roofs evening seemed… Security this world has never foun… Your cloister looked from Caesar’…
Heroes, whose days are told, Above whose bodies brave Presses the heavy, cold, And quenching wave! Ye sleep: but your bright fame,
O Love of my Love, O blue, Blue sky that over me bends! The height and the light are you, And I the lark that ascends, Trembling ascends and soars,
Beautifully dies the year. Silence sleeps upon the mere: Yellow leaves float on it, stilly As, in June, the opened lily. Brushing o’er the frosty grass
The little waves fall in the wintr… On idle sands along the bitter sho… The piling clouds are all a pale s… They tarry and are moved no more. Thin rushes tremble about the nake…
Coiled in shadow, the serpent seas Engirdle perilous hills sublime: By tortuous, steep degrees Toward the morn I climb. Before me the mountain soaring vas…
At her window gazes over the elms A girl; she looks on the branching… But her eyes possess unfathomed re… Her young hand holds her dreaming… Drifted, the dazzling clouds ascen…
Man, simple and brave, easily conf… Giving his all, glad of the sun’s… Heeding little of pitiful incomple… Mending life with laughter and che… Where is he?—I see him not, but I…
Often we talk of the house that we… For airier and less jostled days t… We chafe in, and send Fancy roami… Down western valleys with a choosi… To hover upon this nook or on that…
The mist has fallen over the isles… And Ruan turns his boat for home. The wind is down; with an oar he s… The narrow races, where at whiles To left or right through fog he he…
She was a city of patience; of pro… Dimmed by neglecting Time; of bea… Of acquiescence in the creeping mo… But on a sudden fierce destruction… Tigerishly pouncing: thunderbolt a…
And must I deem you mortal as my… O solemn stars, that to man’s doub… So long have seemed, 'mid the worl… And glories gone, the sole eternal… To perishable flesh and mouldering…
Is it we that are wise, is it we, Who have bought with a price of gr… A wisdom seldom free From scorn or disbelief, Who find this world fulfil
Love, like cordial wine, Pouring his soul in mine, Bids me to sing; Youth’s bright glory snatch, And Time’s paces match
Shafts of light, that poured from… Glowed on long red walls of the ga… Fell upon monstrous visions of age… Still, smiling Sphinx, winged and… With burnished breast of ebon marb…