#EnglishWriters #Victorian
This is that blessed Mary, pre—el… God’s Virgin. Gone is a great whi… Dwelt young in Nazareth of Galile… Unto God’s will she brought devou… Profound simplicity of intellect,
Look in my face; my name is Might… I am also call’d No—more, Too—lat… Unto thine ear I hold the dead—se… Cast up thy Life’s foam—fretted f… Unto thine eyes the glass where th…
The changing guests, each in a dif… Sit at the roadside table and aris… And every life among them in like… Is a soul’s board set daily with n… What man has bent o’er his son’s s…
High grace, the dower of queens; a… Some wood—born wonder’s sweet simp… A glance like water brimming with… Or hyacinth—light where forest—sha… Such thrilling pallor of cheek as…
SWEET Poet, thou of whom these… Must one day yet the burdened birt… And by the darkness of thine eyes… How piercing was the sight within… Gifted apart, thou goest to the gr…
DUSK—HAIRED and gold—robed o’… She stoops, wherein, distilled of… Sink the black drops; while, lit w… Round her spread board the golden… Doth Helios here with Hecaté comb…
As two whose love, first foolish,… Knows suddenly, to music high and… The Holy of holies; who because t… Are now amazed with shame, nor dar… With the whole truth aloud, lest h…
HONEY—FLOWERS to the honey—c… And the honey—bee’s from home. A honey—comb and a honey—flower, And the bee shall have his hour. A honeyed heart for the honey—comb…
The turn of noontide has begun. In the weak breeze the sunshine yi… There is a bell upon the fields. On the long hedgerow’s tangled run A low white cottage intervenes:
Afar away the light that brings co… Unto this wall, —one instant and n… Admitted at my distant palace—door… Afar the flowers of Enna from thi… Dire fruit, which, tasted once, mu…
ROBE d’or, mais rien ne veut Qu’une rose à ses cheveux. A golden robe, yet will she wear Only a rose in her golden hair.
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
I deemed thy garments, O my Hope,… So far I viewed thee. Now the spa… Is passed at length; and garmented… Even as in days of yore thou stand… Ah God! and but for lingering dul…
“THE silver cord is loosed,” he s… “The golden bowl is broken; A few more prayers having been pra… A few more love—words spoken, I shall turn my face unto the wall…
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s Summer’s swe…