#EnglishWriters #Imagery #RhymedStanza #Victorian Aubade
Never the time and the place And the loved one all together! This path—how soft to pace! This May—what magic weather! Where is the loved one’s face?
Morning, evening, noon and night, 'Praise God!; sang Theocrite. Then to his poor trade he turned, Whereby the daily meal was earned. Hard he laboured, long and well;
. This is a spray the Bird clung to… Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprang t… Fit for her nest and her treasure.
ANCIEN RGIME. Now that I, tying thy glass mask… May gaze thro’ these faint smokes… As thou pliest thy trade in this d… Which is the poison to poison her,…
Boot, saddle, to horse and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot… Brightens to blue from its silvery… (Chorus) Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
A SIMPLE ring with a single sto… To the vulgar eye no stone of pric… Whisper the right word, that alone… Forth starts a sprite, like fire f… And lo, you are lord (says an Eas…
She. Yet womanhood you reverence, So you profess! He. Wi… She. Of which fact this is eviden… To help Art-study,—for some dole
At the midnight in the silence of… When you set your fancies free, Will they pass to where—by death,… Low he lies who once so loved you,… —Pity me?
Verse-making was least of my virtu… Wealth that never yet was but migh… If the life would but lengthen to… So I said, “To do little is bad,… And made verse.
PIANO DI SORRENTO Fort, Fort, my beloved one, Sit here by my side, On my knees put up both little fee… I was sure, if I tried,
Dear, had the world in its caprice Deigned to proclaim ‘I know you b… ’Have recognized your plighted tro… Am sponsor for you: live in peace!… How many precious months and years
Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent… Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red… Bluish 'mid the burning water, ful… In the dimmest North-east distanc… “Here and here did England help m…
HEAP cassia, sandal-buds and str… Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smear’d with dull nard an Indian… From out her hair: such balsam… Down sea-side mountain pedestal…
Christ God who savest man, save m… Of men Count Gismond who saved me… Count Gauthier, when he chose his… Chose time and place and company To suit it; when he struck at leng…
(_Prologue to ‘The Two Poets of… Such a starved bank of moss Till, that May-morn, Blue ran the flash across: Violets were born!