#EnglishWriters #Victorian
'Now sleeps the crimson petal, now… Nor waves the cypress in the palac… Nor winks the gold fin in the porp… The fire-fly wakens: wake thou wit… Now droops the milkwhite peacock l…
O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flyin… Fly to her, and fall upon her gild… And tell her, tell her, what I te… O tell her, Swallow, thou that kn… That bright and fierce and fickle…
Written at the Request of the Man… Virgil’s Death Roman Virgil, thou that singest Ilion’s lofty temples robed in fir… Ilion falling, Rome arising,
Lucilla, wedded to Lucretius, fou… Her master cold; for when the morn… Of passion and the first embrace h… Between them, tho’ he loved her no… Yet often when the woman heard his…
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…
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…
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
THOU who stealest fire, From the fountains of the past, To glorify the present, oh, haste, Visit my low desire! Strengthen me, enlighten me!
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…
. There lies a vale in Ida, lovel… Than all the valleys of Ionian hi… The swimming vapour slopes athwart… Puts forth an arm, and creeps from… And loiters, slowly drawn. On eit…
A city clerk, but gently born and… His wife, an unknown artist’s orph… One babe was theirs, a Margaret,… They, thinking that her clear germ… Droopt in the giant-factoried city…
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.
It is the miller’s daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear: For hid in ringlets day and night,
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…
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…