#EnglishWriters
Not ere the bitter herb we taste, Which ages thought of happy times, To plant us in a weeping waste, Rings with our fellows this one he… Accordant chimes.
Open horizons round, O mounting mind, to scenes unsung, Wherein shall walk a lusty Time: Our Earth is young; Of measure without bound;
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…
Sword in length a reaping-hook ama… Harald sheared his field, blood up… ‘Mid the swathes of slain, First at moonrise drank. Thereof hunger, as for meats the k…
Love is winged for two, In the worst he weathers, When their hearts are tied; But if they divide, O too true!
Blue July, bright July, Month of storms and gorgeous blue; Violet lightnings o’er thy sky, Heavy falls of drenching dew; Summer crown! o’er glen and glade
The years had worn their seasons’… From bud to rosy prime, Since Nellie by the larch-pole kn… And helped the hop to climb. Most diligent of teachers then,
Picture some Isle smiling green '… Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms,… Passions and pageants; sweet love… Life in all shapes, aims, and fate… human heart.
Give to imagination some pure ligh… In human form to fix it, or you sh… The devils with that hideous human… Imagination urging appetite! Thus fallen have earth’s greatest…
Full faith I have she holds that… To beauty, Common Sense. To see… With her fair visage an inverted s… Bloom-covered, while the underlids… Would almost wreck the faith; but…
Once I was part of the music I he… On the boughs or sweet between ear… For joy of the beating of wings on… My heart shot into the breast of t… I hear it now and I see it fly,
A satyr spied a Goddess in her ba… Unseen of her attendant nymphs; no… Forthwith the creature to his fell… And looking backward on the curtai… He strove to tell; he could but he…
[Iliad, B. XIV. V. 394] Not the sea-wave so bellows abroad… Whipped from the sea’s deeps up by… Nay, nor is ever the roar of the f… Down along mountain-glades, when i…
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…
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,