#EnglishWriters #Imagery #RhymedStanza #Victorian Aubade
This strange thing happened to a p… Viterbo boasts the man among her s… Of note, I seem to think: his rea… Picked up its precepts in Cortona… That’s Pietro Berretini, whom the…
Where the quiet—coloured end of ev… Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our… Half—asleep Tinkle homeward thro’ the twilight…
That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and ti… Tent of heaven, a planet small: Life was dead and so was light.
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his K… Bidding the crop-headed Parliamen… And, pressing a troop unable to st… And see the rogues flourish and ho… Marched them along, fifty score st…
How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings… And where, my soul, is thy pleasan… With the music of all thy voices,… In life’s November too!
I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. Round and round, like a dance of s…
Stand still, true poet that you ar… I know you; let me try and draw yo… Some night you’ll fail us: when af… You rise, remember one man saw you… Knew you, and named a star!
Here’s my case. Of old I used to… This same unseen friend, before I… Dream there was none like him, non… Wake to hope and trust my dream wa… Loved I not his letters full of b…
WOE, he went galloping into the w… Clara, Clara! Let us two dream: shall he ’scape… Scarcely disfigurement, rather a g… Making for manhood which nowise we…
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…
He. AH, the bird-like fluting Through the ash-tops yonder— Bullfinch-bubblings, soft sounds s… What sweet thoughts, I wonder? Fine-pearled notes that surely
OUT of the little chapel I burst Into the fresh night air again. I had waited a good five minutes f… In the doorway, to escape the rain That drove in gusts down the commo…
SHE: Yet womanhood you reverence… So you profess! HE: With heart and soul. SHE: Of which fact this is evide… To help Art-study,- for some dole
(_Epilogue to ‘The Two Poets of… What a pretty tale you told me Once upon a time —Said you found it somewhere (scol… Was it prose or was it rhyme,
Gr-r-r—-there go, my heart’s abhor… Water your damned flower-pots, do! If hate killed men, Brother Lawre… God’s blood, would not mine kill y… What? your myrtle-bush wants trimm…