#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Is it, then, regret for buried tim… That keenlier in sweet April wake… And meets the year, and gives and… The colours of the crescent prime? Not all: the songs, the stirring a…
All along the valley, stream that… Deepening thy voice with the deepe… All along the valley, where thy wa… I walk’d with one I loved two and… All along the valley, while I wal…
O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetes… How can thou let me waste my youth… I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into… Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare…
That story which the bold Sir Bed… First made and latest left of all… Told, when the man was no more tha… In the white winter of his age, to… With whom he dwelt, new faces, oth…
WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn… In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with… The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn,
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
So all day long the noise of battl… Among the mountains by the winter… Until King Arthur’s table, man by… Had fallen in Lyonnesse about the… King Arthur: then, because his wo…
Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweet… How canst thou let me waste my you… I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into… Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare…
O Sorrow, cruel fellowship, O Priestess in the vaults of Deat… O sweet and bitter in a breath, What whispers from thy lying lip? “The stars,” she whispers, “blindl…
Oh, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final end of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of bl… That nothing walks with aimless fe…
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
To-night ungather’d let us leave This laurel, let this holly stand: We live within the stranger’s land… And strangely falls our Christmas… Our father’s dust is left alone
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…
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…
It is the miller’s daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles in her ear: For hid in ringlets day and night,