#EnglishWriters #Victorian
. MARCHING ALONG. Kentish Sir Byng stood for his K… Bidding the crop-headed Parliamen… And, pressing a troop unable to st… And see the rogues flourish and ho…
It once might have been, once only… We lodged in a street together, You, a sparrow on the housetop lon… I, a lone she—bird of his feather. Your trade was with sticks and cla…
(after he has been extemporizin… Would that the structure brave, th… Bidding my organ obey, calling its… Claiming each slave of the sound,… Armies of angels that soar, legion…
THE MORN when first it thunders… The eel in the pond gives a leap,… As I leaned and looked over the a… Of the villa-gate this warm March… No flash snapped, no dumb thunder…
How I lived, ere my human life be… In this world of yours,—like you,… When my home was the Star of my G… Come then around me, close about, World-weary earth-born ones! Dark…
HIST, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged, Master Hugue… Answer the question I’ve put you… What do you mean by your mountaino… See, we’re alone in the loft,—
Where the quiet—coloured end of ev… Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our… Half—asleep Tinkle homeward thro’ the twilight…
TRUTH is within ourselves; it ta… From outward things, whate’er you… There is an inmost centre in us al… Where truth abides in fullness; an… Wall upon wall, the gross flesh he…
Morning, evening, noon and night, 'Praise God!; sang Theocrite. Then to his poor trade he turned, Whereby the daily meal was earned. Hard he laboured, long and well;
Ah, did you once see Shelley plai… And did he stop and speak to you? And did you speak to him again? How strange it seems, and new! But you were living before that,
Heap cassia, sandal-buds and strip… Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smeared with dull nard an Indian… From out her hair: such balsam fal… Down sea-side mountain pedestals,
Christ God who savest man, save m… Of men Count Gismond who saved me… Count Gauthier, when he chose his… Chose time and place and company To suit it; when he struck at leng…
Among these latter busts we count… Half-emperors and quarter-emperors… Each with his bay-leaf fillet, loo… Loric and low-browed Gorgon on th… One loves a baby face, with violet…
Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill,
A CHILD’S STORY. (_Written for, and inscribed to,… Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city; The river Weser, deep and wide,