#EnglishWriters #Victorian
‘Will you walk a little faster?’ s… ‘There’s a porpoise close behind u… See how eagerly the lobsters and t… They are waiting on the shingle—wi… Will you, won’t you, will you, won…
CHAPTER VIII. The Queen’s Croquet-Ground A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it,...
‘“Will you walk a little faster?”… “There’s a porpoise close behind u… See how eagerly the lobsters and t… They are waiting on the shingle—wi… Will you, won’t you, will you, won…
There was a young lady of station ‘I love man’ was her sole exclamat… But when men cried, 'You flatter’ She replied, 'Oh! no matter Isle of Man is the true explanati…
Fit the First The Landing “Just the place for a Snark!” the… As he landed his crew with care; Supporting each man on the top of…
I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate, I saw an aged, aged man, A—sitting on a gate. ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said.
When on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea—wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave — A little whisper at my ear
AY, 'twas here, on this spot, In that summer of yore, Atalanta did not Vote my presence a bore, Nor reply to my tenderest talk “S…
CHAPTER III. A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank—the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur c...
Lays of Mystery, Imagination, and Humor Number 1 I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls, And each damp thing that creeps an…
Little maidens, when you look On this little story—book, Reading with attentive eye Its enticing history, Never think that hours of play
The Three Voices The First Voice He trilled a carol fresh and free, He laughed aloud for very glee: There came a breeze from off the s…
’Twas brillig, and the slithy tove… Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
As one who strives a hill to climb… Who never climbed before: Who finds it, in a little time, Grow every moment less sublime, And votes the thing a bore:
CHAPTER IV. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; and...