#EnglishWriters
Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry o… The year and I are old. In youth I sought the prince of m…
q|[From a souvenir programme produced for a fund raising benefit in London on 14th May 1912, for those affected by the sinking of the Titanic just a month previously. It includes poems ...
Why should we reck of hours that r… While we two ride together? The heavens rent from end to end Would be but windy weather, The strong stars shaken down in sp…
In the city set upon slime and loa… They cry in their parliament ‘Who… And there comes no answer in arch… For none in the city of graves goe… Yet these shall perish and underst…
I have come forth alive from the l… Where the charm is strong as the t… Torture of wordless dance and wine… Palace hidden in palace, garden wi… Women veiled in the sun, or bare a…
O learned man who never learned to… Save to deduce, by timid steps and… From towering smoke that fire can… And from tall tales that men were… Say, have you thought what manner…
q|Old King Cole Was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he He called for his pipe and he called for his bowl
So you have gained the golden crow… The laurels and the jewels, the pe… But I will beat the bounding drum… For all the glory I have lost, th… I saw the light of morning pale on…
With leaves below and leaves above… And groping under tree and tree, I found the home of my true love, Who is a wandering home for me. Who, lost in ruined worlds aloof,
The American’s a hustler, for he… And surely the American must know… He will prove to you with figures… Beginning with his boyhood long ag… When the slow-maturing anecdote is…
The last chapter has been concerned with the contention that orthodoxy is not only (as is often urged) the only safe guardian of morality or order, but is also the only logical guardian...
Other loves may sink and settle, o… But I wander like a minstrel with… Though the harp be on my bosom, th… Still, my hope is all before me; f… In your strings is hid a music tha…
q|The Rev. Isaiah Bunter has disappeared into the interior of the Solomon Islands, and it is feared that he may have been devoured by the natives, as there has been a considerable reviv...
If sunset clouds could grow on tre… It would but match the may in flow… And skies be underneath the seas No topsyturvier than a shower. If mountains rose on wings to wand…
Little Blue-Fits has lost his wit… And doesn’t know where to find the… Leave them alone and they’ll come… And leave their tales behind them. The remarkable tales, with remarka…