#EnglishWriters
12 A Book of Verses underneath the… A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—a… Beside me singing in the Wilderne… Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow…
71 The Moving Finger writes, and, ha… Moves on; nor all your Piety nor… Shall lure it back to cancel half… Nor all your Tears wash out a Wor…
15 And those who husbanded the Golde… And those who flung it to the wind… Alike to no such aureate Earth ar… As, buried once, Men want dug up…
Wake! For the Sun, who scattered… The Stars before him from the Fie… Drives Night along with them from… The Sultán’s Turret with a Shaft… Before the phantom of False morni…
5 Iram indeed is gone with all his… And Jamshyd’s Sev’n—ring’d Cup w… But still a Ruby kindles in the V… And many a Garden by the Water bl…
Now the New Year reviving old De… The thoughtful Soul to Solitude r… Where the White Hand Of Moses on… Puts out, and Jesus from the Grou…
74 Yesterday This Day’s Madness did… To—morrow’s Silence, Triumph, or… Drink! for you know not whence you… Drink! for you know not why you go…
Wake! For the Sun, who scattered… The Stars before him from the Fie… Drives Night along with them from… The Sultán’s Turret with a Shaft…
73 With Earth’s first Clay They did… And then of the Last Harvest sow’… Yea, the first Morning of Creatio… What the Last Dawn of Reckoning…
9 Each Morn a thousand Roses brings… Yes, but where leaves the Rose of… And this first Summer month that… Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad a…
11 With me along the strip of Herbag… That just divides the desert from… Where name of Slave and Sultan is… And Peace to Mahmud on his golden…
72 And that inverted Bowl they call… Whereunder crawling cooped we liv… Lift not your hands to It for hel… As impotently moves as you or I.
13 Some for the Glories of This Wor… Sigh for the Prophet’s Paradise t… Ah, take the Cash, and let the Cr… Nor heed the rumble of a distant…
Before the phantom of False morni… Methought a Voice within the Tave… “When all the Temple is prepared… Why nods the drowsy Worshiper out…
6 And David’s lips are lockt; but i… High—piping Pehlevi, with “Wine!… Red Wine!”—the Nightingale cries… That sallow cheek of hers t’ incar…