#EnglishWriters
[From the Mireio of Mistral] A hundred mares, all white! their… Like mace-reed of the marshy plain… Thick-tufted, wavy, free o’ the sh… And when the fiery squadron rears
Thus piteously Love closed what h… The union of this ever—diverse pai… These two were rapid falcons in a… Condemned to do the flitting of th… Lovers beneath the singing sky of…
At last we parley: we so strangely… In such a close communion! It bef… About the sounding of the Matin—b… And lo! her place was vacant, and… Of loneliness was round me. Then…
What soul would bargain for a cure… Contempt the nobler agony to kill? Rather let me bear on the bitter i… And strike this rusty bosom with n… It seems there is another veering…
The long cloud edged with streamin… Soars from the West; The red leaf mounts with it away, Showing the nest A blot among the branches bare:
There she goes up the street with… And her Good morning, Martin! Ay… Very well, thank you, Martin!-I c… I might just as well never have co… I can’t understand it. She talks…
You like not that French novel? T… You think it quite unnatural. Let… The actors are, it seems, the usua… Husband, and wife, and lover. She… In England we’ll not hear of it.…
Love is winged for two, In the worst he weathers, When their hearts are tied; But if they divide, O too true!
Enter these enchanted woods, You who dare. Nothing harms beneath the leaves More than waves a swimmer cleaves. Toss your heart up with the lark,
The old grey Alp has caught the c… And the torrent river sings aloud; The glacier-green Rosanna sings An organ song of its upper springs… Foaming under the tiers of pine,
I must be flattered. The imperiou… Desire speaks out. Lady, I am con… To play with you the game of Sent… And with you enter on paths perilo… But if across your beauty I throw…
Now, this, to my notion, is pleasa… To lie all alone on a ragged heath… Where your nose isn’t sniffing for… But a peat-fire smells like a gard… The cottagers bustle about the doo…
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…
Follow me, follow me, Over brake and under tree, Thro’ the bosky tanglery, Brushwood and bramble! Follow me, follow me,