#EnglishWriters
So on the floor lay Balder dead;… Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, d… Which all the Gods in sport had i… At Balder, whom no weapon pierced… But in his breast stood fixt the f…
Hark! ah, the nightingale— The tawny-throated! Hark, from that moonlit cedar what… What triumph! hark!—what pain! O wanderer from a Grecian shore,
Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did too! Her mirth the world required;
Foil’d by our fellow-men, depress’… We leave the brutal world to take… And, Patience! in another life, w… The world shall be thrust down, an… And will not, then, the immortal a…
A YEAR had flown, and o’er the s… In Cornwall, Tristram and queen… In 3 King Marc’s chapel, in Tynt… There in a ship they bore those lo… The young surviving Iseult, one b…
What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the for… The luster of the eye? Is it for beauty to forego her wre… —Yes, but not this alone.
Yes: in the sea of life enisl’d, With echoing straits between us th… Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone. The islands feel the enclasping fl…
WHO taught this pleading to unpra… Who hid such import in an infant’s… Who lent thee, child, this meditat… What clouds thy forehead, and fore… Lo! sails that gleam a moment and…
We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart reside… The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks in hours of insight will…
‘In harmony with Nature’? Restles… Who with such heat dost preach wha… When true, the last impossibility; To be like Nature strong, like Na… Know, man hath all which Nature h…
Children (as such forgive them) ha… Ever in their own eager pastime be… To make the incurious bystander, i… On his own swarming thoughts, an i… Too fearful or too fond to play al…
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is… And ease from shame, and rest from… There’s nothing can dismarble now The smoothness of that limpid brow… But is a calm like this, in truth,
Still glides the stream, slow drop… Under the rustling poplars’ shade; Silent the swans beside us float— None speaks, none heeds; ah, turn… Let those arch eyes now softly shi…
If, in the silent mind of One all… At first imagin’d lay The sacred world; and by processio… From those still deeps, in form an… Seasons alternating, and night and…
Come to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again. For then the night will more than… The hopeless longing of the day. Come, as thou cam’st a thousand ti…