#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Strong Son of God, immortal Love… Whom we, that have not seen thy fa… By faith, and faith alone, embrace… Believing where we cannot prove; Thine are these orbs of light and…
Dosn’t thou ‘ear my ’erse’s legs,… Proputty, proputty, proputty—that’… Proputty, proputty, proputty—Sam,… Theer’s moor sense i’ one o’ 'is l… Woä—theer’s a craw to pluck wi’ th…
Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling d… That beat to battle where he stand… Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: A moment, while the trumpets blow,
IN her ear he whispers gaily, 'If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden, I have watch’d thee daily… And I think thou lov’st me well.' She replies, in accents fainter,
When cats run home and light is co… And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round,
Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slow… It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to…
Comrades, leave me here a little,… Leave me here, and when you want m… ’T is the place, and all around it… Dreary gleams about the moorland f… Locksley Hall, that in the distan…
Late, late, so late! and dark the… Late, late, so late! but we can en… Too late, too late! ye cannot ente… No light had we: for that we do re… And learning this, the bridegroom…
When on my bed the moonlight falls… I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls: Thy marble bright in dark appears,
. O that 'twere possible . After long grief and pain .
I have led her home, my love, my o… There is none like her, none. And never yet so warmly ran my blo… And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long—wished—…
The last tall son of Lot and Bell… And tallest, Gareth, in a showerf… Stared at the spate. A slender-s… Lost footing, fell, and so was whi… ‘How he went down,’ said Gareth,…
Sad Hesper o’er the buried sun And ready, thou, to die with him, Thou watchest all things ever dim And dimmer, and a glory done: The team is loosen’d from the wain…
There is a sound of thunder afar, Storm in the south that darkens th… Storm of battle and thunder of war… Well, if it do not roll our way. Form! form! Riflemen form!
Come down, O maid, from yonder mo… What pleasure lives in height (the… In height and cold, the splendour… But cease to move so near the Hea… To glide a sunbeam by the blasted…