#EnglishWriters
Let us off and search, and find a… Where yours and mine can be natura… Where no one comes who dissects an… And proclaims that ours is a curio… That its touch of romance can scar…
'Ah Madam; you’ve indeed come bac… 'Twas sad-your husband’s so swift… And you away! You shouldn’t have… It hastened his last breath.' 'Dame, I am not the lady you thin…
Between us now and here - Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear Life’s flushest feather - Who see the scenes slide past,
“Soul! Shall I see thy face,” she… "In one brief hour? And away with thee from a loveless… To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt… And be thine own unseparated,
Offended by a Book of the Writer’… NOW that my page upcloses, doomed… Never to press thy cosy cushions m… Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretof… Or stir thy gentle vows of faith i…
‘What are you still, still thinkin… He asked in vague surmise, ’That you stare at the wick unblin… With those great lost luminous eye… ‘O, I see a poor moth burning
Last year I called this world of… The darkest thinkable, and questio… If my own land could heave its pul… So charged it seemed with circumst… The tragedy of things.
The thick lids of Night closed up… Alone at the Bill Of the Isle by the Race - Many—caverned, bald, wrinkled of f… And with darkness and silence the…
I saw a dead man’s finer part Shining within each faithful heart Of those bereft. Then said I: "T… His immortality." I looked there as the seasons w…
My spirit will not haunt the mound Above my breast, But travel, memory-possessed, To where my tremulous being found Life largest, best.
Hereto I come to interview a ghos… Whither, O whither will its whim… Up the cliff, down, till I’m lone… And the unseen waters’ ejaculation… Where you will next be there’s no…
How do you know that the pilgrim t… Along the belting zodiac Swept by the sun in his seeming ro… Is traced by now to the Fishes’ b… And into the Ram, when weeks of c…
Who were the twain that trod this… So many times together Hither and back, In spells of certain and uncertain… Commonplace in conduct they
UPON a noon I pilgrimed through A pasture, mile by mile, Unto the place where I last saw My dead Love’s living smile. And sorrowing I lay me down
What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray, To hazards whence no tears can win…