#EnglishWriters
A battered swordsman, slashed and… I scarce had thought to fight agai… But love of the old game dies hard… So to’t, my lady, if you’re fain! I’m scarce the mettle to refrain,
The valiant girls—of them I sing— Who daily to their business go, Happy as larks, and fresh as sprin… They are the bravest things I kno… At eight, from out my lazy tower,
Tell me, strange heart, so mysteri… Unto what end? Body and soul so mysteriously meet… Strange friend and friend; Hand clasped in hand so mysterious…
Two stars once on their lonely way Met in the heavenly height, And they dreamed a dream they migh… With undivided light; Melt into one with a breathless th…
Go, little book, and be the lookin… Of her dear soul, The mirror of her moments as they… Keeping the whole; Wherein she still may look on yest…
‘How many queens have ruled and pa… Since first we met; How thick and fast The letters used to come at first, How thin at last;
With Pipe and Book at close of da… Oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say? It matters not what book on knee, Old Izaak or the Odyssey, It matters not meerschaum or clay.
Face in the tomb, that lies so sti… May I draw near, And watch you sleep and love you, Without word or tear? You smile, your eyelids flicker;
What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears
I was reading a letter of yours to… The date—O a thousand years ago! The postmark is there—the month wa… How, in God’s name, did I let you… What wonderful things for a girl t…
Must I believe this beauty wholly… That in her picture here so deathl… And must I henceforth speak of he… Tells of some face of legend or of… Still here and there remembered-sc…
The beauty of this rainy day, All silver-green and dripping gray… Has stolen quite my heart away From all the tasks I meant to do, Made me forget the resolute blue
Singers all along the street, Singing every kind of song– One man’s song is honey-sweet, One man’s song is hammer-strong; Yet, however sweet the singing,
April, half-clad in flowers and sh… Walks, like a blossom, o’er the la… She smiles at May, and laughing t… The rain and sunshine hand in hand… So gay the dancing of her feet,
When leaf and flower are newly mad… And bird and butterfly and bee Are at their summer posts again; When all is ready, lo! ’tis she, Suddenly there after soft rain–