#EnglishWriters
The buried voice bespake Antigone… ‘O sister! couldst thou know, as t… The bliss above, the reverence bel… Enkindled by thy sacrifice for me; Thou wouldst at once with holy ecs…
Along the garden terrace, under wh… A purple valley (lighted at its ed… By smoky torch-flame on the long c… Whereunder dropped the chariot), g… A quiet company we pace, and wait
Queen Theodolind has built In the earth a furnace-bed: There the Traitor Nail that spilt Blood of the anointed Head, Red of heat, resolves in shame:
From twig to twig the spider weave… At noon his webbing fine. So near to mute the zephyrs flute That only leaflets dance. The sun draws out of hazel leaves
Cannon his name, Cannon his voice, he came. Who heard of him heard shaken hill… An earth at quake, to quiet stampe… Who looked on him beheld the will…
‘In Paris, at the Louvre, there h… The sumptuously-feathered angel pi… Prone Lucifer, descending. Looked… Showing the fight a fair one? Too… The young Pharsalians did not dis…
A dove flew with an Olive Branch; It crossed the sea and reached the… And on a ship about to launch Dropped down the happy sign it bor… ‘An omen’ rang the glad acclaim!
Love within the lover’s breast Burns like Hesper in the west, O’er the ashes of the sun, Till the day and night are done; Then when dawn drives up her car -
[Iliad, B. XVII. V. 426] So now the horses of Aiakides, of… Wept, since first they were ware o… Cast down low in the whirl of the… Sooth, meanwhile, then did Autome…
Prince of Bards was old Aneurin; He the grand Gododin sang; All his numbers threw such fire in… Struck his harp so wild a twang; - Still the wakeful Briton borrows
Two flower-enfolding crystal vases… I love fills daily, mindful but of… And close behind pale morn she, li… Priming our world with light, pour… Clear water in the cup, and into m…
The sister Hours in circles linke… Daughters of men, of men the mates… Are gone on flow with the day that… With the night that spanned at gol… Mothers, they leave us, quickening…
Yet it was plain she struggled, an… Of righteous feeling made her piti… Poor twisting worm, so queenly bea… Where came the cleft between us? w… My tears are on thee, that have ra…
O might I load my arms with thee, Like that young lover of Romance Who loved and gained so gloriously The fair Princess of France! Because he dared to love so high,
I, wakeful for the skylark voice i… Or straining for the angel of the… Rebuked am I by hungry ear and si… When I behold one lamp that throu… Goes hourly where most noisome; he…