#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
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…
A Sonnet is a moment’s monument, Memorial from the Soul’s eternity To one dead deathless hour. Look… Whether for lustral rite or dire p… Of its own arduous fulness reveren…
Bless love and hope. Full many a… Whirled past us, eddying to its ch… And clasped together where the blo… We long have knelt and wept full m… Yet lo! one hour at last, the Spr…
O Lord of all compassionate contr… O Love! let this my lady’s pictur… Under my hand to praise her name,… Even of her inner self the perfect… That he who seeks her beauty’s fur…
Sweet stream—fed glen, why say “fa… Who far’st so well and find’st for… The brow of Time where man may re… Nay, do thou rather say “farewell”… Who now fare forth in bitterer fan…
On the first day the priest Could find no heart in the beast, And two on the second day.
HE turned his face apart, and gav… And a strange whimper—such a pitif… As haunts the heart for days. “Ye… Unto a pass so low that it seems h… And, when we see a brave and stron…
As thy friend’s face, with shadow… Somewhile unto thy sight perchance… Ghastly and strange, yet never so… In thought, but to all fortunate f… As thy love’s death—bound features…
These coins that jostle on my hand… No single image: each name here an… Denoting in man’s consciousness an… New change. In some, the face is… In others marred. The badge of th…
WITH Shakspeare’s manhood at a b… Through Hamlet’s doubt to Shakspe… And kin to Milton through his Sat… At Death’s sole door he stooped,… And to the dear new bower of Engl…
SHE knew it not:—most perfect pai… To learn: this too she knew not.… For me, calm hers, as from the fir… 'Twas but another bubble burst Upon the curdling draught of life,…
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,
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.
WHAT of the end, Pandora? Was i… The deed that set these fiery pini… Ah! wherefore did the Olympian co… In its own likeness make thee half… Was it that Juno’s brow might sta…