#English
Perhaps, long hence, when I have… Some other’s feature, accent, thou… Will carry you back to what I use… And bring some memory of your love… Then you may pause awhile and thin…
“O lonely workman, standing there In a dream, why do you stare and s… At her grave, as no other grave wh… “If your great gaunt eyes so impor… Her soul by the shine of this corp…
I heard a small sad sound, And stood awhile among the tombs a… “Wherefore, old friends,” said I,… Now, screened from life’s unrest?” II
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…
I need not go Through sleet and snow To where I know She waits for me; She will wait me there
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…
Around the house the flakes fly fa… And all the berries now are gone From holly and cotoneaster Around the house. The flakes fly!… Shutting indoors that crumb-outcas…
By Mellstock Lodge and Avenue Towards her door I went, And sunset on her window-panes Reflected our intent. The creeper on the gable nigh
WHEN Lawyers strive to heal a br… And Parsons practise what they pr… Then Little Boney he’ll pounce do… And march his men on London town! Rollicum-rorum, tol-lol-lorum,
‘If ever I walk to church to wed, As other maidens use, And face the gathered eyes,’ she s… 'I’ll go in satin shoes!' She was as fair as early day
“I have finished another year,” sa… “In grey, green, white, and brown; I have strewn the leaf upon the so… Sealed up the worm within the clod… And let the last sun down.”
When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wa… As one who, held in trance, has la… By vacant rote and prepossession s… The coils that thou hast wrought u… Wherein have place, unrealized by…
See, here’s the workbox, little wi… That I made of polished oak.' He was a joiner, of village life; She came of borough folk. He holds the present up to her
Much wonder I—here long low—laid— That this dead wall should be Betwixt the Maker and the made, Between Thyself and me! For, say one puts a child to nurse…
How she would have loved A party to—day!— Bright-hatted and gloved, With table and tray And chairs on the lawn