#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Nobody says: Ah, that is the plac… Where chanced, in the hollow of ye… What none of the Three Towns care… The birth of a little girl of grac… The sweetest the house saw, first…
That night your great guns, unawar… Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window—squar… We thought it was the Judgment—da… And sat upright. While drearisome
A very West-of-Wessex girl, As blithe as blithe could be, Was once well-known to me, And she would laud her native town… And hope and hope that we
Along the way He walked that day, Watching shapes that reveries limn… And seldom he Had eyes to see
Here by the moorway you returned, And saw the borough lights ahead That lit your face - all undiscern… To be in a week the face of the de… And you told of the charm of that…
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to r… Uncoffined—just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around: And foreign constellations west
Whether to sally and see thee, gir… Or whether to stay And see thee not! How vast the di… Of Yea from Nay Just now. Yet this same sun will…
Some say the spot is banned; that… Attests to a deed of hell; But of else than of bale is the my… That ancient Vale-folk tell. Ere Cernel’s Abbey ceased hereabo…
While the far farewell music thins… And the broad bottoms rip the bear… All smalling slowly to the gray se… And each significant red smoke-sha… Keen sense of severance everywhere…
My ardours for emprize nigh lost Since Life has bared its bones to… I shrink to seek a modern coast Whose riper times have yet to be; Where the new regions claim them f…
Whence comes Solace?—Not from see… What is doing, suffering, being, Not from noting Life’s conditions… Nor from heeding Time’s monitions… But in cleaving to the Dream,
You did not come, And marching Time drew on, and wo… Yet less for loss of your dear pre… Than that I thus found lacking in… That high compassion which can ove…
Long have I framed weak phantasie… O Willer masked and dumb! Who makest Life become, - As though by labouring all-unknowi… Like one whom reveries numb.
For F. E. H. I sometimes think as here I sit Of things I have done, Which seemed in doing not unfit To face the sun:
How I was caught Hieing home, after days of allure, And driven to an inn’small, obsc… At the junction, fret-fraught! How civil my face