#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Old poets foster’d under friendlie… Old Virgil who would write ten li… At dawn, and lavish all the golden… To make them wealthier in the read… And you, old popular Horace, you…
MY father left a park to me, But it is wild and barren, A garden too with scarce a tree, And waster than a warren: Yet say the neighbours when they c…
Minnie and Winnie Slept in a shell. Sleep, little ladies! And they slept well. Pink was the shell within,
Our enemies have fall’n, have fall… The little seed they laugh’d at in… Has risen and cleft the soil, and… Of spanless girth, that lays on ev… A thousand arms and rushes to the…
The woods decay, the woods decay a… The vapours weep their burthen to… Man comes and tills the field and… And after many a summer dies the s… Me only cruel immortality
How fares it with the happy dead? For here the man is more and more; But he forgets the days before God shut the doorways of his head. The days have vanish’d, tone and t…
First pledge our Queen this solem… Then drink to England, every gues… That man’s the best Cosmopolite Who loves his native country best. May freedom’s oak for ever live
With blackest moss the flower-plot… Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the kno… That held the pear to the gable-wa… The broken sheds look’d sad and st…
Hark! the dogs howl! the sleetwind… The church-clocks knoll: the hours… I leave the dreaming world below. Blown o’er frore heads of hills I… Long narrowing friths and stripes…
Again at Christmas did we weave The holly round the Christmas hea… The silent snow possess’d the eart… And calmly fell our Christmas-eve… The yule-log sparkled keen with fr…
O living will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer s… Rise in the spiritual rock, Flow thro’ our deeds and make them… That we may lift from out of dust
As thro’ the land at eve we went, And pluck’d the ripen’d ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss’d again with tears.
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes
Contemplate all this work of Time… The giant labouring in his youth; Nor dream of human love and truth, As dying Nature’s earth and lime; But trust that those we call the d…
Wheer 'asta beän saw long and meä… Noorse? thoort nowt o’ a noorse: w… Says that I moänt 'a naw moor aäl… Git ma my aäle, fur I beänt a—gaw… Doctors, they knaws nowt, fur a sa…