#EnglishWriters #Victorian
‘TIS of the Father Hilary. He strove, but could not pray; so… The steep—coiled stair, where his… A sad blind echo. Ever up He toiled. ’Twas a sick sway of a…
Mystery: lo! betwixt the sun and m… Astarte of the Syrians: Venus Qu… Ere Aphrodite was. In silver shee… Her twofold girdle clasps the infi… Of bliss whereof the heaven and ea…
“Who rules these lands?” the Pilg… “Stranger, Queen Blanchelys.” “And who has thus harried them?” h… “It was Duke Luke did this: God’s ban be his!”
What is the sorriest thing that en… None of the sins,—but this and tha… Which a soul’s sin at length could… These yet are virgins, whom death’… Might once have sainted; whom the…
SAY, is it day, is it dusk in thy… Thou whom I long for, who longest… Oh! be it light, be it night, 'tis… Love’s that is fettered as Love’s… Free love has leaped to that inner…
What dawn—pulse at the heart of he… Incarnate flower of culminating da… What marshalled marvels on the ski… Or song full—quired, sweet June’s… What glory of change by Nature’s…
First Snow, February WOOLNER, to—night it snows for… Our feet know well the path where… Mine leave one track: how all the… Are hoary in the long—unwonted rim…
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:
When do I see thee most, beloved… When in the light the spirits of m… Before thy face, their altar, sole… The worship of that Love through… Or when in the dusk hours, (we two…
Not in thy body is thy life at all But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…
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…
The mother will not turn, who thin… Her nursling’s speech first grow a… But breathless with averted eyes e… She sits, with open lips and open… That it may call her twice. 'Mid…
'Twixt those twin worlds,—the worl… No dream to warn,—the tidal world… Which the earth’s sea, as the eart… Shelley, Song’s orient sun, to br… Rose from this couch that morn. A…
“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…
This word had Merlin said from of… That out of the Oak Tree Shade In the day of France’s direst dul… God’s hand should send a Maid. And where Domremy, by Burgundy,