#EnglishWriters
‘I am Miss Catherine’s book,' the… ‘I’ve lain among your tomes these… I’m tired of their old coats and y… ‘Quick, Pen! and write a line wit… Come! draw me off a funny little f…
There’s in the Vest a city pleasa… To vich King Bladud gev his name, And in that city there’s a Cresce… Vere dwelt a noble knight of fame. Although that galliant knight is o…
On deck, beneath the awning, I dozing lay and yawning; It was the gray of dawning, Ere yet the sun arose; And above the funnel’s roaring,
‘A surgeon of the United States’… the Captain of his company, he fou… had enlisted on account of some fe… Ye Yankee Volunteers! It makes my bosom bleed
Tink-a-tink, tink-a-tink, By the light of the star, On the blue river’s brink, I heard a guitar. I heard a guitar,
‘Your Molly has never been false,… Since the last time we parted at… When I said that I would continue… And I gave you the ’bacco-box mar… When I passed a whole fortnight b…
Come all ye Christian people, unt… ‘Tis about a base consperracy, as… ‘Twill make your hair to bristle u… When of this dread consperracy you… The news of this consperracy and v…
Beside the old hall-fire—upon my n… Of happy fairy days—what tales wer… I thought the world was once—all p… And my heart would beat to hear—th… And many a quiet night,—in slumber…
Special Jurymen of England! who a… And proclaim a British Jury worth… Gayly compliment each other at the… Which was tried at Guildford 'siz… Unto that august tribunal comes a…
Little KITTY LORIMER, Fair, and young, and witty, What has brought your ladyship Rambling to the City? All the Stags in Capel Court
The night was stormy and dark, The town was shut up in sleep: Only those were abroad who were ou… Or those who’d no beds to keep. I pass’d through the lonely street…
Winter and summer, night and morn, I languish at this table dark; My office window has a corn– er looks into St. James’s Park. I hear the foot-guards’ bugle-horn…
A humble flower long time I pined Upon the solitary plain, And trembled at the angry wind, And shrunk before the bitter rain. And oh! ’twas in a blessed hour
Ye Genii of the nation, Who look with veneration. And Ireland’s desolation onsaysin… Ye sons of General Jackson, Who thrample on the Saxon,
There was a king in Brentford,—of… But who, without his glory,—could… His Polly’s cotton nightcap,—it w… He slept of evenings early,—and ro… All in a fine mud palace,—each day…