#EnglishWriters
Struggle not with thy life!—the he… Resist not, it will bow thee like… Strive not! thou shalt not conquer… Thou shalt go crushed, and ground,… Complain not of thy life!—for what…
IN MARCH 1865 A double worship hath the spring,… Triumph, and joy, and sweetness mo… For, standing on the threshold of… Your life’s star shines, full in h…
Sleep, Venice, sleep! the evening… Over the waves that rock thee on t… The bugle blare to kennel calls th… Who sleepless watch thy waking and… Sleep till the night stars do the…
When ’twas my hap to meet you, for… Our paths together lay—and each on… Heart to feel heart, and thought t… And our brief converse has been as… Upon a sorrowful face,—sweet—sad—a…
Spirit, bright spirit! from thy na… Answer me! answer me! oh, let me h… Thy voice, and know that thou inde… That from the bonds in which thou’… Thou hast not broken free, thou ar…
Better trust all, and be deceived, And weep that trust, and that dece… Than doubt one heart, that, if bel… Had blessed one’s life with true b… Oh, in this mocking world, too fas…
The golden hinges of the year have… Spring, and the summer, and the ha… Have come, and gone; and on the th… The withered Winter, stretching f… To take my rose from me;—which he…
Now in the west is spread A golden bed; Great purple curtains hang around, With fiery fringes bound, And cushions, crimson red,
If in thy heart the spring of joy… All beauteous things, being reflec… Most beautiful and joyful do appea… But if that treasure hath been fro… If emptiness, and darkness, in thy…
I would I might be with thee, whe… Begins to wane, and that thou walk… Upon the rocky strand, whilst loud… The autumn wind sings, from his cl… Wild requiems for the summer that…
Life wanes, and the bright sunligh… Sets o’er the mountain-tops, where… O Innocence! O Trustfulness! O… Where are ye all, white-handed sis… Who with me on my way did walk alo…
With these two kisses on thine eye… I melt thy sleep away’arise! For look, my love, PhÅbus his go… Hath laid upon the white mane of t… And springing from the fresh brine…
Flying leaves the wild Spring sca… From the silver blossomed trees, Let them fall’it little matters; Fresh-born buds will greet each br… Flying leaves, grim Winter strewi…
The blossoms hang again upon the t… As when with their sweet breath th… Against my casement, on that sunny… When thou, first blossom of my spr… And as I lay, panting from the fi…
When the dawn O’er hill and dale Throws her bright veil, Oh, think of me! When the rain