#EnglishWriters #Victorian
The day is dark and the night To him that would search their hea… No lips of cloud that will part Nor morning song in the light: Only, gazing alone,
O lovely hand, that thy sweet self… In that thy pure and proper elemen… Whence erst the Lady of Love’s hi… Was born, and endless fires sprang… Even as her Loves to her their of…
THE thoughts in me are very calm… That think upon your love: yet by… You shall not greatly marvel that… Or nightfall—yet scarce nightfall—… Leaves me thus sad. Now if you as…
“I love you, sweet: how can you ev… How much I love you?” “You I lov… And so I learn it.” “Sweet, you c… How fair you are.” “If fair enoug… Your love, so much is all my love’…
AND didst thou know indeed, when… Together with thy name thou gav’st… That also on thy son must Beatric… Decline her eyes according to her… Accepting me to be of those that h…
LAY your head here, Mary, Lay your head here, While the blown grass, Mary, With timid voice and wary, Sings in your ear:—
OLTRE tomba Qualche cosa? E che ne dici? Saremo felici? Terra mai posa,
I said: “Nay, pluck not,—let the… Even as thou sayest, it is sweet a… But let it ripen still. The tree’… Sees in the stream its own fecundi… And bides the day of fulness. Sha…
Love, should I fear death most fo… Yet if you die, can I not follow… Forcing the straits of change? Al… Shall wrest a bond from night’s in… Ere yet my hazardous soul put fort…
THIS is the place. Even here the… The unflinching hand, wrought on;… As on that very bed, his life part… New birth, and passed. Yon river’… Whereto the close—built coiling la…
I. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER Give honour unto Luke Evangelist; For he it was (the aged legends sa… Who first taught Art to fold her… Scarcely at once she dared to rend…
In a dull swiftness we are carried… With bodies left at sway and shaki… The wind has ceased, or is a feebl… Warm in the sun. The leaves are n… From yesterday’s dense rain. All,…
(To M.F.R.) SISTER, first shake we off the… Upon our feet, lest it defile the… Inscriptured, covering their sacre… Who lie i’ the aisles which keep t…
Was that the landmark? What,—the… Whose wave, low down, I did not s… But sat and flung the pebbles from… In sport to send its imaged skies… (And mine own image, had I noted…
Sweet twining hedgeflowers wind—st… On this June day; and hand that c… Still glades; and meeting faces sc… An osier—odoured stream that draws… Deep to its heart; and mirrored ey…