#EnglishWriters
IT hardly seems that he is dead, So strange it is that we are here Beneath this great blue shell of s… With apple-bloom and pear: It scarce seems true that we can n…
O might I leave this grassy place For spreading foam about my feet! The splendid spray upon my face, The flying brine itself were sweet If I might hear on Cromer beach
My lass, when God to suffer sent me, no gifts he gave, but only lent me for gold, my breath,
HERE in the country’s heart Where the grass is green, Life is the same sweet life As it e’er hath been. Trust in a God still lives,
Adam and Eve together stood Amid the crop they both were tendi… While far away the feathery wood Of Eden in the wind was bending. And Adam, feeling in his veins
The brook told the dove And the dove told me That Cicely’s bathing at the pool With other virgins three. The brook told the dove
Excuse me, Sweetheart, if I smear… With wisdom learnt from ancient te… Now winter time once more is here, This grease upon your lengthy feat… Behaving thus, your loyal friend
Beware of those who slyly pilch In many cunning ways; Beware of little lyres that filch From undisputed bays! Beware the tumbler’s beaded brim,
Shy maids have haunts of still del… The lover glades he never tells; And one is mine where mass the bri… And odoured chimes of foxglove-bel… A dewy, covert, silent place
All work is over at the farm And men and maids are ripe for gle… Love slips among them sly and warm Or calls them to the chestnut-tree… As Colin looks askance at Jane
You voluble, Velvety Vehement fellows That play on your Flying and
I’m greedy by nature, and often in… Have lingered too long o’er the su… Accepting the jelly, ignoring the… Intent on receiving far more than… I worship the plover’s egg, tasty…
WAIT but a little while— The bird will bring A heart in tune for melodies Unto the spring, Till he who ’s in the cedar there
The kind-hearted angler was sadly… His calling unhallowed of choking… He bitterly wept, for of course he… An action most strongly opposed to… His vertabra shook as he musingly…
Have you seen the golfers airy Prancing forth to their vagary, Just as frisky in their gaiters As a flock of Grecian Satyrs, Looking everything heroic,