#EnglishWriters
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…
I am Day; I bring again Life and glory, Love and pain: Awake, arise! from death to death Through me the World’s tale quick…
In Arthur’s house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held his court then in a place Whereof ye shall not find the name
Spring went about the woods to-day… The soft-foot winter-thief, And found where idle sorrow lay ’Twixt flower and faded leaf. She looked on him, and found him f…
What part of the dread eternity Are those strange minutes that I… Mazed with the doubt of love and p… When I thy delicate face may see, A little while before farewell?
Strong are thine arms, O love, &a… Thine heart to live, and love, and… But thou art wed to grief and wron… Live, then, and long, though hope… Live on, & labour thro’ the ye…
I am Night: I bring again Hope of pleasure, rest from pain: Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and D… My fruitful silence quickeneth.
Each eve earth falleth down the da… As though its hope were o’er; Yet lurks the sun when day is done Behind to-morrow’s door. Grey grows the dawn while men-folk…
O muse that swayest the sad North… Thy right hand full of smiting &am… Thy left hand holding pity; &… Heaving with hope of that so certa… Thou, with the grey eyes kind and…
Had she come all the way for this, To part at last without a kiss? Yea, had she borne the dirt and ra… That her own eyes might see him sl… Beside the haystack in the floods?
I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amidst of sleep: Who shall say if I were dead What should be remembered?
She wavered, stopped and turned, m… The deep grey windows of her heart… Methought they softened with a new… To note in mine unspoken miseries, And as a prayer from out my heart…
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?
Gold on her head, and gold on her… And gold where the hems of her kir… And a golden girdle round my sweet… Ah! qu’elle est belle La Margueri… Margaret’s maids are fair to see,
What cometh here from west to east… And who are these, the marchers st… We bear the message that the rich… Aback to those who bade them wake… Not one, not one, nor thousands mu…