#EnglishWriters #Victorian
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…
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…
Love to his singer held a glisteni… And said: “The rose—tree and the… Have fruits to vaunt or flowers to… And golden shafts are in the feath… Of the great harvest—marshal, the…
So then, the name which travels si… With English life from childhood—… Means this. The sun is setting. “… Till the sunset, and ended,” says… It lacked the “chord” by stage—use…
Could Juno’s self more sovereign… Than thou, 'mid other ladies thron… Or Pallas, when thou bend’st with… O’er poet’s page gold—shadowed in… Dost thou than Venus seem less he…
It was Lilith the wife of Adam: (Sing Eden Bower!) Not a drop of her blood was human, But she was made like a soft sweet… Lilith stood on the skirts of Ede…
“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
ON a fair Sabbath day, when His… It is pleasant to feast with my L… His stewards stand robed at the fo… Of the soul—filling, life—giving b… All the guests here had burthens;…
THE wounded hart and the dying sw… Were side by side Where the rushes coil with the tur… The hart and the swan. AS much as in a hundred years, sh…
Is Memory most of miseries misera… Or the one flower of ease in bitte…
Sweet Love,—but oh! most dread De… Life—thwarted. Linked in gyves I… Love shackled with Vain—longing,… And one was eyed as the blue vault… But hope tempestuous like a fire—c…
A REMOTE sky, prolonged to the… One rock—point standing buffeted a… Vexed at its base with a foul beas… Hell—birth of geomaunt and teraphi… A knight, and a winged creature be…
O RUFF—EMBASTIONED vast El… Bush to these bushel—bellied casks… Home—growth, 'tis true, but rank a… What would we with such skittle—pl… Say, must we watch these brawlers’…
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…
THERE is a big artist named Val… The roughs’ and the prize—fighters… The mind of a groom And the head of a broom Were Nature’s endowments to Val.