#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
Morn in the wake of the morning st… Came furrowing all the orient into… We rose, and each by other drest w… Descended to the court that lay th… In shadow, but the Muses’ heads w…
Deep on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour go… May my soul follow soon! The shadows of the convent-towers
You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till,
Beautiful city Beautiful city, the centre and cra… O you with your passionate shriek… humanity, How often your Re-volution has pr…
Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went
O LOVE, Love, Love! O witherin… O sun, that from thy noonday heigh… Shudderest when I strain my sight… Throbbing thro’ all thy heat and l… Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the grou… Calm and deep peace on this high w…
He thought to quell the stubborn h… Madman! to chain with chains, and… That island queen who sways the fl… From Ind to Ind, but in fair dayl… When from her wooden walls,—lit by…
The path by which we twain did go, Which led by tracts that pleased u… Thro’ four sweet years arose and f… From flower to flower, from snow t… And we with singing cheer’d the wa…
My dream had never died or lived a… As in some mystic middle state I… Seeing I saw not, hearing not I h… Though, if I saw not, yet they to… So often that I speak as having s…
Dark house, by which once more I… Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to… So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp’d no more…
Dip down upon the northern shore, O sweet new-year, delaying long; Thou doest expectant Nature wrong… Delaying long, delay no more. What stays thee from the clouded n…
Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls Of water, sheets of summer glass, The long divine Peneian pass, The vast Akrokeraunian walls, Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair,
You say, but with no touch of scor… Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-bl… Are tender over drowning flies, You tell me, doubt is Devil-born. I know not: one indeed I knew