#EnglishWriters #Victorian
On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs… To many—tower’d Camelot;
It little profits that an idle kin… By this still hearth, among these… Match’d with an aged wife, I mete… Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, a…
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, So loud with voices of the birds, So thick with lowings of the herds… Day, when I lost the flower of me… Who tremblest thro’ thy darkling r…
Where Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
O mighty-mouth’d inventor of harmo… O skill’d to sing of Time or Eter… God-gifted organ-voice of England… Milton, a name to resound for ages… Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abd…
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…
Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel, an… Turn thy wild wheel thro’ sunshine… Thy wheel and thee we neither love… Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel wit… With that wild wheel we go not up…
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,
I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reve… And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and bra…
Where Claribel low—lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose—leaves fall: But the solemn oak—tree sigheth, Thick—leaved, ambrosial,
The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that “this is I… But as he grows he gathers much,
He rose at dawn and, fired with ho… Shot o’er the seething harbour-bar… And reach’d the ship and caught th… And whistled to the morning star. And while he whistled long and lou…
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now… Nor waves the cypress in the palac… Nor winks the gold fin in the porp… The firefly wakens, waken thou wit… Now droops the milk-white peacock…
COME down, O maid, from yonder m… 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…
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…