#EnglishWriters #Victorian
These coins that jostle on my hand… No single image: each name here an… Denoting in man’s consciousness an… New change. In some, the face is… In others marred. The badge of th…
FROM him did forty million serfs… Each with six feet of death—due so… Rich freeborn lifelong land, where… Their country’s harvest. These to… Demand of Heaven a Father’s blood…
Warmed by her hand and shadowed by… As close she leaned and poured her… Whereof the articulate throbs acco… The smooth black stream that makes… Sweet fluttering sheet, even of he…
By thine own tears thy song must t… O Singer! Magic mirror thou hast… Except thy manifest heart; and sav… Anguish or ardour, else no amulet. Cisterned in Pride, verse is the…
HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta’s q… (O Troy Town!) Had two breasts of heavenly sheen, The sun and moon of the heart’s de… All Love’s lordship lay between.
“How should I your true love know From another one?” “By his cockle—hat and staff And his sandal—shoon.” “And what signs have told you now
Epitaph All beauty to pourtray, Therein his duty lay, And still through toilsome strife Duty to him was life—
Look in my face; my name is Might… I am also call’d 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…
CON manto d’oro, collana, ed anel… Le piace aver con quelli Non altro che una rosa ai suoi cap… WITH golden mantle, rings, and n… It likes her best to wear
Under the arch of Life, where lov… Terror and mystery, guard her shri… Beauty enthroned; and though her g… I drew it in as simply as my breat… Hers are the eyes which, over and…
Because our talk was of the cloud—… And moon—track of the journeying f… Her tremulous kisses faltered at l… And her eyes dreamed against a dis… But soon, remembering her how brie…
WATER, for anguish of the solsti… But dip the vessel slowly,—nay, bu… And hark how at its verge the wave… Reluctant. Hush! beyond all depth… The heat lies silent at the brink…
Ye who have passed Death’s haggar… Whom trees that knew your sires sh… And still stand silent:—is it all… A wisp that laughs upon the wall?—… Of some inexorable supremacy
This is her picture as she was: It seems a thing to wonder on, As though mine image in the glass Should tarry when myself am gone. I gaze until she seems to stir,—
Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s Summer’s swe…