#EnglishWriters
The Tyrant passed, and friendlier… On the great man of Athens, whom… He knew, than on the sycophantic f… That broke as waters round a galle… Bubbles at prow and foam along the…
Though I am faithful to my loves… And place them among Memory’s gre… Where burns a face like Hesper: o… Of visages I get a moment’s view, Sweet eyes that in the heaven of m…
I bade my Lady think what she mig… Know I my meaning, I? Can I love… And yet be jealous of another? No… Commits such folly. Terrible Love… Has might, even dead, half sighing…
Close Echo hears the woodman’s ax… To double on it, as in glee, With clap of hands, and little lac… Of meaning in her repartee. For all shall fall,
Where faces are hueless, where eye… Where passion is silent and hearts… Where thought hath no theme, and w… In patience and peace thou art gon… Gone where no warning can wake the…
What are we first? First, animals… Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of th… And all that draweth on the tomb f… Into which state comes Love, the…
Captive on a foreign shore, Far from Ilion’s hoary wave, Agamemnon’s bridal slave Speaks Futurity no more: Death is busy with her grave.
How died Melissa none dares shape… A woman who is wife despotic lords Count faggot at the question, Sha… Her son, because his brows were bl… Runs barking for his bread, a fugi…
‘Sirs! may I shake your hands? My countrymen, I see! I’ve lived in foreign lands Till England’s Heaven to me. A hearty shake will do me good,
Now the North wind ceases, The warm South-west awakes; Swift fly the fleeces, Thick the blossom-flakes. Now hill to hill has made the stri…
What may the woman labour to confe… There is about her mouth a nervous… ’Tis something to be told, or hidd… I get a glimpse of hell in this mi… She has desires of touch, as if to…
When April with her wild blue eye Comes dancing over the grass, And all the crimson buds so shy Peep out to see her pass; As lightly she loosens her showery…
Historic be the survey of our kind… And how their brave Society took… Lion, wolf, vulture, fox, jackal a… The strong of limb, the keen of no… Who, with some jars in harmony, co…
I know him, February’s thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns… Now ere the foreign singer thrills
Leave the uproar: at a leap Thou shalt strike a woodland path, Enter silence, not of sleep, Under shadows, not of wrath; Breath which is the spirit’s bath