#Decadents #English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Tarry a moment, happy feet, That to the sound of laughter glid… O glad ones of the evening street, Behold what forms are at your side… You conquerors of the toilsome day
Dear child, thou know’st, I blame… Thou too, I know, hast shared the… Neither did wrong; ’twas only she, Nature, that moulded us apart. But not to have sinned, in Nature…
Through storm—blown gloom the subt… Shapes of tumultuous, ghostly clou… Trailing a dark shower from hill—d… Dawn, desolate in its majesty, is… But ere the wayside trees show lea…
Woe to him that has not known the… Who has not felt within him burnin… Of desolated bosoms, since the wor… Felt, as his own, the burden of th… Who has not eaten failure’s bitter…
Random rock And the stain of the rain, Smell of bracken, The windy moor And the wild cloud,
O strange, O sweetly warm Falls the sunshine on my cheek. I taste the cordial North; In the pines I hear him speak. A new, a tender charm
When life begins anew, And Youth, from gathering flowers… From vague delights, rapt musings,… Turns restless, seeking some great… To sum his fostered dreams; when t…
The shrines of old are broken down… The faiths that knelt at them are… Nothing’s strange, and nought unkn… All’s been done and all been said. Tired of knowledge, now we sigh
Will they blot also out your name Because you praise All works of men that shrine the f… Of beauty’s ways, Wherever men have proved them grea…
The Golden Gallery lifts its aery… O’er dome and pinnacle: there I l… Is this indeed my own familiar tow… This busy dream? Beneath me sprea… In distance large it lay, nor noth…
This is the man who, sole in Brit… In Europe, by profounder instinct… The strength of Britain; and that… Slow into act, upshouldering the w… Vast weight of effort. Eyes full…
Hither, from thirsty day And stifling labour and the street… To twilight shut away Beyond the soft roar, under hoveri… Hither the gleeful multitudes repa…
Lads in the loose blue, Crutched, with limping feet, With bandaged arm, that roam To—day the bustling street, You humble us with your gaze,
Shall we but turn from braggart pr… Our race to cheapen and defame? Before the world to wail, to chide… And weakness as with vaunting clai… Ere the hour strikes, to abdicate
No more of sorrow, the world’s old… Nor war of thronging spirits numbe… Immortal ardours in brief days con… No more the languid fever of manki… To—day I sing: ’tis no melodious…