#English #Victorians
I have desired to go Where springs not fail, To fields where flies no sharp and… And a few lilies blow. And I have asked to be
The fine delight that fathers thou… Spur, live and lancing like the bl… Breathes once and, quenchèd faster… Leaves yet the mind a mother of im… Nine months she then, nay years, n…
On ear and ear two noises too old… Trench—right, the tide that ramps… With a flood or a fall, low lull—o… Frequenting there while moon shall… Left hand, off land, I hear the l…
Moonless darkness stands between. Past, the Past, no more be seen! But the Bethlehem—star may lead m… To the sight of Him Who freed me From the self that I have been.
To seem the stranger lies my lot,… Among strangers. Father and mothe… Brothers and sisters are in Chris… And he my peace my parting, sword… England, whose honour O all my he…
To what serves mortal beauty ‘ —da… ing blood—the O—seal—that—so ’ fea… Than Purcell tune lets tread to?… Men’s wits to the things that are;… Master more may than gaze, ’ gaze…
Glory be to God for dappled thing… For skies of couple—colour as a br… For rose—moles all in stipple upon… Fresh—firecoal chestnut—falls; fin… Landscape plotted and pieced– fold…
ACT I. SC. I Enter Teryth from riding, Winefre… T. WHAT is it, Gwen, my girl? w… W. You came by Caerwys, sir? T. I came by Caerwys.
Look at the stars! look, look up a… O look at all the fire—folk sittin… The bright boroughs, the circle—ci… Down in dim woods the diamond delv… The grey lawns cold where gold, wh…
. . . . . . . . Hope holds to Christ the mind’s o… To take His lovely likeness more… It will not well, so she would bri… An ever brighter burnish than befo…
‘But tell me, child, your choice;… You?’—‘Father, what you buy me I… With the sweetest air that said, s… He swung to his first poised purpo… What the heart is! which, like car…
Nothing is so beautiful as spring… When weeds, in wheels, shoot long… Thrush’s eggs look little low heav… Through the echoing timber does so… The ear, it strikes like lightning…
My window shews the travelling clo… Leaves spent, new seasons, alter’d… The making and the melting crowds: The whole world passes; I stand b… They do not waste their meted hour…
Some candle clear burns somewhere… I muse at how its being puts bliss… With yellowy moisture mild night’s… Or to—fro tender trambeams truckle… By that window what task what fing…
I caught this morning morning’s mi… dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple—… Of the rolling level underneath hi… High there, how he rung upon the r… In his ecstasy! then off, off fort…
