#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Queen Guinevere had fled the cour… There in the holy house at Almesb… Weeping, none with her save a litt… A novice: one low light betwixt t… Blurred by the creeping mist, for…
O loyal to the royal in thyself, And loyal to thy land, as this to… Bear witness, that rememberable da… When, pale as yet, and fever-worn,… Who scarce had plucked his flicker…
Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slow… It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to…
I come from haunts of coot and her… I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,
As thro’ the land at eve we went, And pluck’d the ripen’d ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss’d again with tears.
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, Night, has flo… Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted…
The path by which we twain did go, Which led by tracts that pleased u… Thro’ four sweet years arose and f… From flower to flower, from snow t… And we with singing cheer’d the wa…
Home they brought her warrior dead… She nor swoon’d nor utter’d cry: All her maidens, watching, said, “She must weep or she will die.” Then they praised him, soft and lo…
PART I On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs…
Be near me when my light is low, When the blood creeps, and the ner… And tingle; and the heart is sick, And all the wheels of Being slow. Be near me when the sensuous frame
He clasps the crag with crooked ha… Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring’d with the azure world, he st… The wrinkled sea beneath him crawl… He watches from his mountain walls…
Is it, then, regret for buried tim… That keenlier in sweet April wake… And meets the year, and gives and… The colours of the crescent prime? Not all: the songs, the stirring a…
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelie… Than all the valleys of Ionian hi… The swimming vapour slopes athwart… Puts forth an arm, and creeps from… And loiters, slowly drawn. On eit…
Who would be A merman bold, Sitting alone, Singing alone Under the sea,
Old warder of these buried bones, And answering now my random stroke With fruitful cloud and living smo… Dark yew, that graspest at the sto… And dippest toward the dreamless h…
