#EnglishWriters
A STORY FROM THE LAN… At Deildar-Tongue in the autumn-t… So many times over comes summer ag… Stood Odd of Tongue his door besi… What healing in summer if winter b…
Midst bitten mead and acre shorn, The world without is waste and wor… But here within our orchard-close, The guerdon of its labour shows. O valiant Earth, O happy year
So swift the hours are moving Unto the time unproved: Farewell my love unloving, Farewell my love beloved! What! are we not glad-hearted?
It is the longest night in all the… Near on the day when the Lord Chr… Six hours ago I came and sat down… And ponder’d sadly, wearied and fo… The winter wind that pass’d the ch…
Love is enough: have no thought fo… If ye lie down this even in rest f… Ye who have paid for your bliss wi… For as it was once so it shall be… Ye shall cry out for death as ye s…
It was up in the morn we rose beti… From the hall-floor hard by the ro… It was but John the Red and I, And we were the brethren of Grego… And Gregory the Wright was one
Love is enough: draw near and beho… Ye who pass by the way to your res… And are full of the hope of the da… For the strong of the world have b… And my house is all wasted from th…
The days have slain the days, and the seasons have gone by And brought me the summer again; and here on the grass I lie As erst I lay and was glad
TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… King Hafbur & King Siward They needs must stir up strife, All about the sweetling Signy Who was so fair a wife.
Lo, when we wade the tangled wood, In haste and hurry to be there, Nought seem its leaves and blossom… For all that they be fashioned fai… But looking up, at last we see
Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin
TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… It was the fair knight Aagen To an isle he went his way, And plighted troth to Else, Who was so fair a may.
Our hands have met, our lips have… Our souls - who knows when the win… How light souls drift mid longings… If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was not long ago?
Of Heaven or Hell I have no powe… I cannot ease the burden of your f… Or make quick-coming death a littl… Or bring again the pleasure of pas… Nor for my words shall ye forget y…
Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love.