#EnglishWriters
Puss loves man’s winter fire Now that the sun so soon Leaves the hours cold it warmed In burning June. She purrs full length before
I spied John Mouldy in his celler… Deep down twenty steps of stone; In the dusk he sat a-smiling Smiling there all alone. He read no book, he snuffed no can…
Who said, “Peacock Pie”? The old King to the sparrow: Who said, “Crops are ripe”? Rust to the harrow: Who said, “Where sleeps she now?
Far are those tranquil hills, Dyed with fair evening’s rose; On urgent, secret errand bent, A traveller goes. Approach him strangers three,
As Ann came in one summer’s day, She felt that she must creep, So silent was the clear cool house… It seemed a house of sleep. And sure, when she pushed open the…
“Sweep thy faint strings, Musicia… With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn, Sinks soft the waning sand; The old hound whimpers couched in…
Down the Hill of Ludgate, Up the Hill of Fleet, To and fro and East and West With people flows the street; Even the King of England
Have you been catching fish, Tom… Have you snared a weeping hare? Have you whistled 'No Nunny’ and… Or blinded a bird of the air? Have you trod like a murderer thro…
‘Who knocks? ’ ‘I, who was beauti… Beyond all dreams to restore, I from the roots of the dark thorn… And knock on the door.’ ‘Who speaks? ’ 'I—once was my spe…
Peace in thy hands, Peace in thine eyes, Peace on thy brow; Flower of a moment in the eternal… Peace with me now.
My mind is like a clamorous market… All day in wind, rain, sun, its ba… Voice answering to voice in tumult… Chaffering and laughing, pushing f… My thoughts haste on, gay, strange…
See this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies— ‘Remove, remove thy searching gaze…
The old Pig said to the little pi… ‘In the forest is truffles and mas… Follow me then, all ye little pigs… Follow me fast!’ The Charcoal-burner sat in the sh…
Winter is fallen early On the house of Stare; Birds in reverberating flocks Haunt its ancestral box; Bright are the plenteous berries
Said Mr. Smith, 'I really cann… Tell you, Dr. Jones’ The most peculiar pain I’m in’… I think it’s in my bones.' Said Dr. Jones, 'Oh, Mr. Smit…