#EnglishWriters #Victorian
Again at Christmas did we weave The holly round the Christmas hea… The silent snow possess’d the eart… And calmly fell our Christmas—eve… The yule—log sparkled keen with fr…
A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fa… Of temper amorous, as the first of… With lengths of yellow ringlet, li… For on my cradle shone the Northe… There lived an ancient legend in o…
Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling d… That beat to battle where he stand… Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: A moment, while the trumpets blow,
With blackest moss the flower-plot… Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the kno… That held the pear to the gable-wa… The broken sheds look’d sad and st…
IN her ear he whispers gaily, 'If my heart by signs can tell, Maiden, I have watch’d thee daily… And I think thou lov’st me well.' She replies, in accents fainter,
NIGHTINGALES warbled without… Within was weeping for thee: Shadows of three dead men Walk’d in the walks with me: Shadows of three dead men, and tho…
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: waken thou wi… Now droops the milk-white peacock…
'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…
Tears, idle tears, I know not wha… Tears from the depth of some divin… Rise in the heart, and gather to t… In looking on the happy Autumn-fi… And thinking of the days that are…
O Sorrow, cruel fellowship, O Priestess in the vaults of Deat… O sweet and bitter in a breath, What whispers from thy lying lip? “The stars,” she whispers, “blindl…
Is it, then, regret for buried tim… That keenlier in sweet April wake… And meets the year, and gives and… The colours of the crescent prime? Not all: the songs, the stirring a…
When the breeze of a joyful dawn b… In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with… The forward—flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer—morn,
(For Music) What sight so lured him thro’ the… As where earth’s green stole into… Far-far-away? What sound was dearest in his nati…
Light, so low upon earth, You send a flash to the sun. Here is the golden close of love, All my wooing is done. Oh, all the woods and the meadows,
Home they brought her warrior dead… She nor swoon’d nor utter’d cry: All her maidens, watching, said, “She must weep or she will die.” Then they praised him, soft and lo…