#EnglishWriters
Had she come all the way for this, To part at last without a kiss? Yea, had she borne the dirt and ra… That her own eyes might see him sl… Beside the haystack in the floods?
Day. I am Day; I bring again Life and glory, Love and pain: Awake, arise! from death to death Through me the World’s tale quick…
In Arthur’s house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held his court then in a place Whereof ye shall not find the name
It is the longest night in all the… Near on the day when the Lord Chr… Six hours ago I came and sat down… And ponder’d sadly, wearied and fo… The winter wind that pass’d the ch…
Of Heaven or Hell I have no powe… I cannot ease the burden of your f… Or make quick-coming death a littl… Or bring again the pleasure of pas… Nor for my words shall ye forget y…
O treacherous scent, O thorny sig… O tangle of world’s wrong and righ… What art thou ’gainst my armour’s… But dusky cobwebs of a dream? Beat down, deep sunk from every gl…
The King has asked of his son so… “Why art thou hushed and heavy of… O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughes… All thy good game is clean forgot.…
Fair now is the springtide, now ea… With the eyes of a lover, the face… Long lasteth the daylight, and hop… The green-growing acres with incre… Now sweet, sweet it is through the…
Love is enough: cherish life that… Lest ye die ere ye know him, and c… For who knows in what ruin of all… On what wings of the terror of dar… And what is the joy of man’s life…
How the wind howls this morn About the end of May, And drives June on apace To mock the world forlorn And the world’s joy passed away
Upon an eve I sat me down and wep… Because the world to me seemed now… Still autumn was it, & the mea… The misty hills dreamed, and the s… Seemed listening to the sorrow of…
Love is enough: though the World… And the woods have no voice but th… Though the sky be too dark for dim… The gold-cups and daisies fair blo… Though the hills be held shadows,…
The Beasts that be In wood and waste, Now sit and see, Nor ride nor haste.
Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin
It was up in the morn we rose beti… From the hall-floor hard by the ro… It was but John the Red and I, And we were the brethren of Grego… And Gregory the Wright was one