#EnglishWriters
It is so long gone by, and yet How clearly now I see it all! The glimmer of your cigarette, The little chamber, narrow and tal… Perseus; your picture in its frame…
I may not weep, not weep, and he i… A weary, weary weight of tears uns… Through the long day in my sad hea… The horrid sun with all unpitying… Shines down into the dreary weavin…
The people take the thing of co… They marvel not to see This strange, unnatural divorce Betwixt delight and me. I know the face of sorrow, and I…
He comes; I hear him up the stree… Bird of ill omen, flapping wide The pinion of a printed sheet, His hoarse note scares the eventid… Of slaughter, theft, and suicide
Am I waking, am I sleeping? As the first faint dawn comes cree… Thro’ the pane, I am aware Of an unseen presence hovering, Round, above, in the dusky air:
On Bellosguardo, when the year wa… We wandered, seeking for the daffo… And dark anemone, whose purples fi… The peasant’s plot, between the co… Over the grey, low wall the olive…
With Apologies to Mr. Swinbur… For repose I have sighed and have… I am held in the Circle of Being… I was wan and weary with life ; my… I was weary of women and war and t…
(A Fragment)>/i> What, have I waked again? I never… To see the rosy dawn, or ev’n this… Dull, solemn stillness, ere the da… The lamp burns low; low burns the…
What does youth know of love? Little enough, I trow! He plucks the myrtle for his brow, For his forehead the rose. Nay, but of love
Out of town the sky was bright and… Never fog-cloud, lowering, thick,… Nature dons a garb of gayer hue, Out of town. Spotless lay the snow on field and…
UP those Museum steps you came, And straightway all my blood was f… O Lallie, Lallie! The world (I had been feeling low… In one short moment’s space did gr…
How like her! But ’tis she hersel… Comes up the crowded street, How little did I think, the morn, My only love to meet! Whose else that motion and that mi…
Cruel? I think there never was a… More cruel, thro’ all the weary da… This is no dream, my heart kept on… But sober certainty of waking blis… Dreams? O, I know their faces—goo…
"Mein Herz, mein Herz ist trau… Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai" There’s May amid the meadows, There’s May amid the trees; Her May-time note the cuckoo
A haunted town thou art to me.<… —Andrew Lang To-day in Florence all the air Is soft with spring, with sunlight… In the tall street gay folks are m…