#EnglishWriters
When your head leans back slowly,… Muse earnest upon mine and starry… With depths unfathomed that still… And the words fail, and sight with… Whence comes that almost sadness,…
Spring has leapt into Summer. A glory has gone from the green. The flush of the poplar has sobere… The flame in the leaf of the lime… But I am thinking of the young me…
The wind has fal’n asleep; the bou… Is quiet; the warm sun’s gone; the… Sinks and is almost lost; Yet the April day glows on within… Happy as the white buds in the blu…
‘Haste thee, Harold, haste thee N… Norway ships in Humber crowd. Tall Hardrada, Sigurd’ son, For thy ruin this hath done— England for his own hath vowed.
And were they but for this, those… Of joy, that I have nursed? indee… That longings, day and night, have… Now it has come, the hour of bliss… How different it seems!
Away, sad thoughts, and teasing Perplexities, away! Let other blood go freezing, We will be wise and gay. For here is all heart-easing,
To whom but thee, my youth to dedi… My youth, which these few leaves h… Should I now come, although I com… Alas! and can but lay them on thy… To whom but thee? From thee, I kn…
All is wild with change, Large the yellow leaves Hang, so frail and few. Now they go, they too Flutter, lifted, lying,
Blue noon shines o’er the sea; Waves break starry on the sand; Lights and sounds and scents come… On the radiant air of the land. I am filled with the melody of wav…
In the time of wild roses As up Thames we travelled Where 'mid water—weeds ravelled The lily uncloses, To his old shores the river
But sudden in the hush between Death and the doomed, there stands Against those levelled guns a prie… Gentle, with outstretched hands. Be not as guilty as they! he cries…
Within, the pillars soar to gloom Lit by the glimmering Rose ; Spirits of beauty shrined in stone Afar from mortal woes, Hearing not, though their haunted…
The shrines of old are broken down… The faiths that knelt at them are… Nothing’s strange, and nought unkn… All’s been done and all been said. Tired of knowledge, now we sigh
Wisdom and Valour, Faith, Justice,—the lofty names Of virtue’s quest and prize,— What is each but a cold wraith Until it lives in a man
Woe to him that has not known the… Who has not felt within him burnin… Of desolated bosoms, since the wor… Felt, as his own, the burden of th… Who has not eaten failure’s bitter…