#English
We walked where Victor Jove was s… And passed to Livia’s rich red mu… Whence, thridding cave and Cripto… We gained Caligula’s dissolving p… And each ranked ruin tended to beg…
This is the weather the cuckoo lik… And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut… And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale b…
Pet was never mourned as you, Purrer of the spotless hue, Plumy tail, and wistful gaze While you humoured our queer ways, Or outshrilled your morning call
At last! In sight of home again, Of home again; No more to range and roam again As at that bygone time? No more to go away from us
Had you wept; had you but neared m… Dewy as the face of the dawn, in y… Then would have come back all the… And a new beginning, a fresh fair… But you were less feebly human, an…
In Casterbridge there stood a nob… Wrought with pilaster, bay, and ba… In tactful times when shrewd Eliz… On burgher, squire, and clown It smiled the long street down for…
"No—not where I shall make my own… But dig his grave just by The woman’s with the initialed sto… As near as he can lie - After whose death he seemed to ail…
To M. H. WE passed where flag and flower Signalled a jocund throng; We said: “Go to, the hour Is apt!”—and joined the song;
CHANGE and chancefulness in my… Set me sun by sun near to one unch… Wrought us fellowly, and despite d… Friends interblent us. “Cherish him can I while the true…
I do not see the hills around, Nor mark the tints the copses wear… I do not note the grassy ground And constellated daisies there. I hear not the contralto note
It faces west, and round the back… High beeches, bending, hang a veil… And sweep against the roof. Wild… Climb on the walls, and seem to sp… (If we may fancy wish of trees and…
I saw a slowly-stepping train— Lined on the brows, scoop-eyed and… Following in files across a twilit… A strange and mystic form the fore… II
It was your way, my dear, To be gone without a word When callers, friends, or kin Had left, and I hastened in To rejoin you, as I inferred.
WHEN you paced forth, to wait ma… A dream of other offspring held my… Compounded of us twain as Love de… Rare forms, that corporate now wil… Should I, too, wed as slave to Mo…
Dear Lizbie Browne, Where are you now? In sun, in rain? - Or is your brow Past joy, past pain,