And Therefore If to Love Can Be Desert, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And therefore if to love can be desert,
I am ...
Bear Poems
And Wilt Thou Have Me Fashion Into Speech, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The ...
An Apprehension, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
IF all the gentlest-hearted friends I know
Con...
I Thought Once How Theocritus Had Sung, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the ...
A Tale of Villafranca, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I My little son, my Florentine,
Sit down be...
Thou Hast Thy Calling to Some Palace-Floor, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
M...
Anecdote for Fathers, by William Wordsworth
I have a boy of five years old;
His face is f...
The Childless Father, by William Wordsworth
"Up, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
N...
The Danish Boy, by William Wordsworth
I Between two sister moorland rills
There is...
Guilt and Sorrow; or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain, by William Wordsworth
I A traveller on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
...
Michael, by William Wordsworth
A Pastoral Poem If from the public way you tur...
The Oak and the Broom, by William Wordsworth
I His simple truths did Andrew glean
Beside ...
The Old Cumberland Beggar, by William Wordsworth
I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was s...
Rob Roy's Grave, by William Wordsworth
A famous man is Robin Hood,
The English balla...
Ruth, by William Wordsworth
When Ruth was left half desolate,
Her Father...
The Sailor's Mother, by William Wordsworth
One morning (raw it was and wet
A foggy day in...
The Source of the Danube, by William Wordsworth
Not, like his great compeers, indignantly
Do...
There is a Bondage Worse, Far Worse, to Bear, by William Wordsworth
There is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear
...
'Tis Said, That Some Have Died for Love, by William Wordsworth
'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And...
To a Highland Girl, by William Wordsworth
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty ...
Vaudracour and Julia, by William Wordsworth
O happy time of youthful lovers (thus
My story...
The Waggoner, by William Wordsworth
Canto the First 'Tis spentthis burning day of ...
Night Music, by Evelyn Scott
Through the blue water of night
Rises the whit...
To the River Avon, by Walter Savage Landor
Avon! Why runnest thou away so fast?
Rest thee...
Earth's Answer, by William Blake
Earth raised up her head
From the darkness dre...