#English #Victorians
Think thou and act; to—morrow thou… Outstretch’d in the sun’s warmth u… Thou say’st: “Man’s measur’d path… Up all his years, steeply, with st… Man clomb until he touch’d the tru…
Andromeda, by Perseus sav’d and w… Hanker’d each day to see the Gorg… Till o’er a fount he held it, bade… And mirror’d in the wave was safel… That death she liv’d by.
IT’S copied out at last: very poo… Writ in the cold, with pauses of t… Direct, dear William, to the Post… At Ghent—here written Gand—Gong,… We go to Antwerp first, but shall…
Christ sprang from David Shepherd… From David King, being born of hi… The Shepherd lays his crook, the… Here at Christ’s feet, and high a…
WAVING whispering trees, What do you say to the breeze And what says the breeze to you? ‘Mid passing souls ill at ease, Moving murmuring trees,
When do I see thee most, beloved… When in the light the spirits of m… Before thy face, their altar, sole… The worship of that Love through… Or when in the dusk hours, (we two…
REND, rend thine hair, Cassandra… Yea, rend thy garments, wring thin… From Troy still towered to the un… See, all but she that bore thee mo… He most whom that fair woman arms,…
DID she in summer write it, or in… Or with this wail of autumn at her… Or in some winter left among old y… Scratched it through tettered cark… That round her heart the frost was…
Consider the sea’s listless chime: Time’s self it is, made audible,— The murmur of the earth’s own shel… Secret continuance sublime Is the sea’s end: our sight may pa…
Girt in dark growths, yet glimmeri… O night desirous as the nights of… Why should my heart within thy spe… Now beat, as the bride’s finger—pu… Quickened within the girdling gold…
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
Not in thy body is thy life at all But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…
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…
ALONG the grass sweet airs are b… Our way this day in Spring. Of all the songs that we have know… Now which one shall we sing? Not that, my love, ah no!—
The mother will not turn, who thin… Her nursling’s speech first grow a… But breathless with averted eyes e… She sits, with open lips and open… That it may call her twice. 'Mid…
