#EnglishWriters
“Ah, are you digging on my grave, My loved one?—planting rue?” —"No: yesterday he went to wed One of the brightest wealth has br… ‘It cannot hurt her now,’ he said,
If seasons all were summers, And leaves would never fall, And hopping casement-comers Were foodless not at all, And fragile folk might be here
She charged me with having said th… To another woman long years before… In the very parlour where we sat,… Sat on a night when the endless po… Of rain on the roof and the road b…
I traced the Circus whose gray st… Where Rome and dim Etruria interj… Till came a child who showed an an… That bore the image of a Constant… She lightly passed; nor did she on…
This love puts all humanity from m… I can but maledict her, pray her d… For giving love and getting love o… Feeding a heart that else mine own… How much I love I know not, life…
He enters, and mute on the edge of… Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger… A type of decayed gentility; And by some small signs he well ca… That she comes to him almost break…
Shall we conceal the Case, or tel… We who believe the evidence? Here and there the watch-towers… With a sullen significance, Heard of the few who hearken inten…
O poet, come you haunting here Where streets have stolen up all a… And never a nightingale pours one Full-throated sound? Drawn from your drowse by the Sev…
Why did you give no hint that nigh… That quickly after the morrow’s da… And calmly, as if indifferent quit… You would close your term here, up… Where I could not follow
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…
“My bride is not coming, alas!” sa… And the telegram shakes in his han… It was hurried! We met at a danci… When I went to the Cattle—Show a… And then, next night, where the F…
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…
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…
O sweet To—morrow!— After to-day There will away This sense of sorrow. Then let us borrow
From the slow march and muffled dr… And crowds distrest, And book and bell, at length I ha… To my full rest. A ten years’ rule beneath the sun