#EnglishWriters
The rude wind is singing The dirge of the music dead; The cold worms are clinging Where kisses were lately fed.
Where man’s profane and tainting h… Nature’s primaeval loveliness ha… And some few souls of the high bli… Which else obey her powerful comma… ...mountain piles
These are two friends whose lives… So let their memory be, now they h… Under the grave; let not their bon… For their two hearts in life were…
The world’s great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empi…
Moonbeam, leave the shadowy vale, To bathe this burning brow. Moonbeam, why art thou so pale, As thou walkest o’er the dewy dale… Where humble wild-flowers grow?
I would not be a king—enough Of woe it is to love; The path to power is steep and rou… And tempests reign above. I would not climb the imperial thr…
The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of sn…
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once… To the bright Sun, thy hymn of mu… Whom to the child of star-clad He… Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, bro… Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair
Oh! take the pure gem to where sou… Waft repose to some bosom as faith… In which the warm current of love… As it rises unmingled with selfish… Which, untainted by pride, unpollu…
Dakrysi Dioisw Potmon Apotmon Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fa… As star-beams among twilight trees…
Emily, A ship is floating in the harbour… A wind is hovering o’er the mounta… There is a path on the sea’s azure… No keel has ever plough’d that pat…
The fierce beasts of the woods and… Track not the steps of him who dri… For the light breezes, which for e… Around its margin, heap the sand t…
I love thee, Baby! for thine own… Those azure eyes, that faintly dim… Thy tender frame, so eloquently we… Love in the sternest heart of hate… But more when o’er thy fitful slum…
‘Do you not hear the Aziola cry? Methinks she must be nigh,’ Said Mary, as we sate In dusk, ere stars were lit, or ca… And I, who thought
I stood upon a heaven-cleaving tur… Which overlooked a wide Metropoli… And in the temple of my heart my… Lay prostrate, and with parted lip… The dust of Desolations [altar] h…
