#EnglishWriters #RhymedStanza #Victorian
Again at Christmas did we weave The holly round the Christmas hea… The silent snow possess’d the eart… And calmly fell our Christmas—eve… The yule—log sparkled keen with fr…
O loyal to the royal in thyself, And loyal to thy land, as this to… Bear witness, that rememberable da… When, pale as yet, and fever-worn,… Who scarce had plucked his flicker…
It is the miller’s daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles in her ear: For hid in ringlets day and night,
Sad Hesper o’er the buried sun And ready, thou, to die with him, Thou watchest all things ever dim And dimmer, and a glory done: The team is loosen’d from the wain…
O that ‘twere possible After long grief and pain To find the arms of my true love Round me once again! When I was wont to meet her
O living will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer s… Rise in the spiritual rock, Flow thro’ our deeds and make them… That we may lift from out of dust
On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs… To many—tower’d Camelot;
MY good blade carves the casques… My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of… Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth h…
To—night ungather’d let us leave This laurel, let this holly stand: We live within the stranger’s land… And strangely falls our Christmas… Our father’s dust is left alone
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in… Had made mock-knight of Arthur’s… At Camelot, high above the yellow… Danced like a wither’d leaf before… And toward him from the hall, with…
Hark! the dogs howl! the sleetwind… The church-clocks knoll: the hours… I leave the dreaming world below. Blown o’er frore heads of hills I… Long narrowing friths and stripes…
That which we dare invoke to bless… Our dearest faith; our ghastliest… He, They, One, All; within, with… The Power in darkness whom we gue… I found Him not in world or sun,
Again at Christmas did we weave The holly round the Christmas hea… The silent snow possess’d the eart… And calmly fell our Christmas-eve… The yule-log sparkled keen with fr…
By an Evolutionist The Lord let the house of a brute… And the man said, ‘Am I your debt… And the Lord–‘Not yet; but make i… And then I will let you a better.…
‘Your ringlets, your ringlets, That look so golden-gay, If you will give me one, but one, To kiss it night and day, The never chilling touch of Time