#English #Victorians
HE turned his face apart, and gav… And a strange whimper—such a pitif… As haunts the heart for days. “Ye… Unto a pass so low that it seems h… And, when we see a brave and stron…
Was that the landmark? What,—the… Whose wave, low down, I did not s… But sat and flung the pebbles from… In sport to send its imaged skies… (And mine own image, had I noted…
ROBE d’or, mais rien ne veut Qu’une rose à ses cheveux. A golden robe, yet will she wear Only a rose in her golden hair.
She hath the apple in her hand for… Yet almost in her heart would hold… She muses, with her eyes upon the… Of that which in thy spirit they c… Haply, “Behold, he is at peace,”…
This feast—day of the sun, his alt… In the broad west has blazed for v… And I have loitered in the vale t… And gaze now a belated worshipper. Yet may I not forget that I was '…
IN her deep bosom the pride settl… That pride which is a brackish thi… And the life in her pulses seemed… About her temples for an iron crow… She set stern patience. She did n…
Mother, is this the darkness of th… The Shadow of Death? and is that… Infinite imminent Eternity? And does the death—pang by man’s s… In Time’s each instant cause thy…
Watch thou and fear; to—morrow tho… Or art thou sure thou shalt have t… Is not the day which God’s word p… To come man knows not when? In yo… Now while we speak, the sun speeds…
Eat thou and drink; to—morrow thou… Surely the earth, that’s wise bein… Needs not our help. Then loose me… Thy sultry hair up from my face; t… May pour for thee this golden wine…
ROSE—SHEATHED beside the ros… Lurks the young adder’s tooth; Milk—mild from new—born hemlock—bl… The earliest drops are wrung: And sweet the flower of his first…
First Snow, February WOOLNER, to—night it snows for… Our feet know well the path where… Mine leave one track: how all the… Are hoary in the long—unwonted rim…
Is Memory most of miseries misera… Or the one flower of ease in bitte…
Look in my face; my name is Might… I am also called No—more, Too—lat… Unto thine ear I hold the dead—se… Cast up thy Life’s foam—fretted f… Unto thine eyes the glass where th…
ENTER Skald, moored in a punt, And jacks and tenches exeunt.
E GIOVINE il signore, Ed ama molte cose,— I canti, le rose, La forza e l’amore. Quel che più vuole