My heart all Winter lay so numb, The earth so dead and frore, That I never thought the Spring woul...
2011-12-05
And felt the Classics were not dead, To glimpse a Naiad's reedy head, Or hear the Goat-foot piping...
Senility's queasy furtive love-making, And searching those dear eyes for human meaning, Propping t...
of unequal merit, were full of humorous delight in the New World. In one of his travel papers he de...
O heart, in the great dawn! Day That I Have Loved Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your ey...
And one remembers. . . . Ah! the beat Of weary unreturning feet, And songs of pilgrims unreturnin...
The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me. Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist. Love is...
Thin to the glittering stars above, You know the hands, the eyes of love! The strife of limbs, the...
For the kin of you will surely do Their duty by the dead. Their little dull greasy eyes will water...
The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke by Rupert Brooke [British Poet -- 1887-1915.] Born at Rugby, ...
The dramatic sonnet in English has not gone beyond that, for beauty, for brevity, for tragic effect...
Nor a cloth upon his face, Nor drop feet foremost through the floor Into an empty space. He does ...
2011-12-03
That the man should have his pall. For he has a pall, this wretched man, Such as few men can claim...
Poem: Ravenna (Newdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878. To ...
Than sweetest ambergris. What dost thou fear? Young Hyacinth is slain, Pan is not here, And will...