Amy Levy

Amy Levy

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

XantippeA Fragment

What, have I waked again
I never
To see the rosy dawn, or ev'n this grey,
Dull, solemn stillness, ere the dawn has come
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To Death

(From Lenau
)If within my heart there's mould,
If the flame of
And the flame of Love grow cold,
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New Love New Life

She, who so long has lain    Stone-stiff with folded wings,
Within my heart again    The brown bird wakes and sings
Brown nightingale, whose strain    Is heard by day, by night,
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London Poets

(In Memoriam
)They trod the streets and squares where now I tread,
With weary hearts, a little while ago;
When, thin and grey, the melancholy
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Sinfonia Eroica

(To Sylvia
)My Love, my Love, it was a day in June,
A mellow, drowsy, golden afternoon;
And all the eager people thronging
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The Promise of Sleep

Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee—but thou shalt find Thy
All day I could not work for woe, I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro, Like a leaf on the storm...
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To Lallie Outside the British Museum

Up those Museum steps you came,
And straightway all my blood was flame,                             O Lallie,
The world (I had been feeling low)In one short moment's space did grow                             A happy valley
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