#EnglishWriters
UPON a poet’s page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent t… Whence that high singer’s rapture… —When now I turn the leaf the sam…
Just at the corner of the wall We met– yes, he and I – Who had not faced in camp or hall Since we bade home good-bye, And what once happened came back–…
See, here’s the workbox, little wi… That I made of polished oak.' He was a joiner, of village life; She came of borough folk. He holds the present up to her
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, t…
I said to Love, “It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, t…
Whence comes Solace?—Not from see… What is doing, suffering, being, Not from noting Life’s conditions… Nor from heeding Time’s monitions… But in cleaving to the Dream,
PART I ‘I have a Love I love too well Where Dunkery frowns on Exon Moo… I have a Love I love too well, To whom, ere she was mine,
“Soul! Shall I see thy face,” she… "In one brief hour? And away with thee from a loveless… To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt… And be thine own unseparated,
O poet, come you haunting here Where streets have stolen up all a… And never a nightingale pours one Full-throated sound? Drawn from your drowse by the Sev…
At last I entered a long dark gal… Catacomb—lined; and ranged at the… Were the bodies of men from far an… Who, motion past, were nevertheles… “The sense of waiting here strikes…
They sing their dearest songs— He, she, all of them—yea, Treble and tenor and bass, And one to play; With the candles mooning each face…
A very West-of-Wessex girl, As blithe as blithe could be, Was once well-known to me, And she would laud her native town… And hope and hope that we
I would that folk forgot me quite, Forgot me quite! I would that I could shrink from… And no more see the sun. Would it were time to say farewell…
We stood by a pond that winter day… And the sun was white, as though c… And a few leaves lay on the starvi… –They had fallen from an ash, and… Your eyes on me were as eyes that…
For long the cruel wish I knew That your free heart should ache f… While mine should bear no ache for… For, long—the cruel wish!—I knew How men can feel, and craved to vi…