#EnglishWriters
Blacker the night grows ere the da… Keener the cost, and fiercer yet t… But hark! above the thunder and th… A trumpet blowing splendid through… It is the challenge of our dead un…
Magically awakened to a strange, b… The streets lie cold. A hush of h… Dulls the noise of the wheels to a… Near and sudden the passing figure… And out of darkness steep on start…
Ask me not, Dear, what thing it i… That makes me love you so; What graces, what sweet qualities, That from your spirit flow: For I have but this old reply,
Because the storm has stript us ba… Of all things but the thing we are… Because our faith requires us whol… And we are seen to the very soul, Rejoice! From now all meaner fear…
I am weary of doing and dating The day with the thing to be done, This painful self translating To a language not my own. Give me to fashion a thing;
Burned from the ore’s rejected d… The iron whitens in the heat. With plangent strokes of pain and… The hammers on the iron beat. Searched by the fire, through deat…
The Mother to her brooding breast Her shrouded baby closely holds, A stationary shadow, drest In shadow, falling folds on folds. With gesture motionless as Night
The rain was ending, and light Lifting the leaden skies. It shone upon ceiling and floor And dazzled a child’s eyes. Pale after fever, a captive
What wonder of what hope do you en… Whose eyes are all filled with fut… What shape of more than beauty wou… With desire’s strength out of the… Your bosom is the haunt of holy fe…
IT was the very heart of Peace th… In the deep minster-bell’s wide-th… When over old roofs evening seemed… Security this world has never foun… Your cloister looked from Caesar’…
In the hollow of pale night upon t… The silence blows a perfume: O bu… A sound is in the bosom of the dar… Breathed like a secret from the gl… A vigil of unearthly sound, the se…
An Ode I walked beside full—flooding Tha… Westward; upon my face the sunset… The hour, the spacious evening, pl… Buoyant the air breathed after rai…
Beyond the ferry water That fast and silent flowed, She turned, she gazed a moment, Then took her onward road Between the winding willows
Lusty life her river pours Along a road of shining shores. The moon of August beams Mild as upon her harvest slopes; b… From man’s full—breath’d abounding…
Now is the time for the burning of… They go to the fire; the nostril p… Wandering slowly into a weeping mi… Brittle and blotched, ragged and r… A flame seizes the smouldering rui…