#EnglishWriters
Fountains that frisk and sprinkle The moss they overspill; Pools that the breezes crinkle; The wheel beside the mill, With its wet, weedy frill;
Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was the King of Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,
Thin-legged, thin-chested, slight… Neat-footed and weak-fingered: in… Lean, large-boned, curved of beak,… Bold-lipped, rich-tinted, mutable… The brown eyes radiant with vivaci…
In the placid summer midnight, Under the drowsy sky, I seem to hear in the stillness The moths go glimmering by. One by one from the windows
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance
A DAINTY thing’s the Villanell… Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme, It serves its purpose passing well… A double-clappered silver bell That must be made to clink in chim…
She’s tall and gaunt, and in her h… With flashes of the old fun’s anim… There lowers the fixed and peevish… Bred of a past where troubles came… She tells me that her husband, ere…
Spring winds that blow As over leagues of myrtle-blooms a… Bevies of spring clouds trooping s… Like matrons heavy bosomed and agl… With the mild and placid pride of…
O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…
Some three, or five, or seven, and… A Roman nose; a dimpling double-c… Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant o… Are yet acquainted, it would seem,… A comely shape; a slim, high-colou…
Fresh from his fastnesses Wholesome and spacious, The North Wind, the mad huntsman, Halloas on his white hounds Over the grey, roaring
Once on a time There was a little boy: a master-m… By virtue of a Book Of magic—O, so magical it filled His life with visionary pomps
A desolate shore, The sinister seduction of the Moo… The menace of the irreclaimable S… Flaunting, tawdry and grim, From cloud to cloud along her beat…
St. Margaret’s bells, Quiring their innocent, old-world… Sing in the storied air, All rosy-and-golden, as with memor… Of woods at evensong, and sands an…
A LATE lark twitters from the qu… And from the west, Where the sun, his day’s work ende… Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city