#EnglishWriters
The Roman threw us a road, a road… And sighed and strolled away: The Saxon gave us a raid, a raid, A raid that came to stay; The Dane went west, but the Dane…
White founts falling in the courts… And the Soldan of Byzantium is sm… There is laughter like the fountai… It stirs the forest darkness, the… It curls the blood—red crescent, t…
I have not read a rotten page Of “Sex-Hate” or “The Social Te… And here comes “Husks” and “Herit… O Moses, give us all a rest! “Ethics of Empire”!... I protest
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
Low and brown barns thatched and r… Where I had seven sons until to-d… A little hill of hay your spur has… This is not Paris. You have lost… You, staring at your sword to find…
q|G. K. Chesterton’s tribute was… Lift up your heads; in life, in de… God knoweth his head was high; Quit we the coward’s broken breath… Who watched a strong man die.
Sunder me from my bones, O sword… Till they stand stark and strange… That I whose heart goes up with t… May marvel as much at these. Sunder me from my blood that in th…
O well for him that loves the sun That sees the heaven-race ridden o… The splashing seas of sunset won, And shouts for victory. God made the sun to crown his head…
A word came forth in Galilee, a w… It climbed and rang and blessed an… A word of sudden secret hope, of t… Of wrath and pity fused in fire, a… A star that o’er the citied world…
Though giant rains put out the sun… Here stand I for a sign. Though earth be filled with waters… My cup is filled with wine. Tell to the trembling priests that…
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…
They haven’t got no noses, The fallen sons of Eve; Even the smell of roses Is not what they supposes; But more than mind discloses
Impetuously I sprang from bed, Long before lunch was up, That I might drain the dizzy dew From the day’s first golden cup. In swift devouring ecstasy
God made the wicked Grocer For a mystery and a sign, That men might shun the awful shop… And go to inns to dine; Where the bacon’s on the rafter
They spoke of Progress spiring ro… Of light and Mrs Humphrey Ward— It is not true to say I frowned, Or ran about the room and roared; I might have simply sat and snored…