#EnglishWriters #Victorian
The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright— And this was odd, because it was
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,...
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs choked his voice. ‘Same as if he ha...
The Vanishing They sought it with thimbles, they… They pursued it with forks and hop… They threatened its life with a ra… They charmed it with smiles and so…
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:
There are certain things —a spider… The income—tax, gout, an umbrella… That I hate, but the thing that I… Is a thing they call the SEA. Pour some salt water over the floo…
With saddest music all day long She soothed her secret sorrow: At night she sighed “I fear 'twas… Such cheerful words to borrow. Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
Little maidens, when you look On this little story—book, Reading with attentive eye Its enticing history, Never think that hours of play
ONE winter night, at half—past ni… Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, I had come home, too late to dine, And supper, with cigars and wine, Was waiting in the study.
A boat, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear,
He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. ‘At length I realise,’ he said,
‘You can’t think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old thing!’ said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately into Alice’s, and they walked off together. Alice was very g...
The day was wet, the rain fell sou… Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a sound was heard in the old henhous… A beating of a hammer. Of stalwart form, and visage warm,
In stature the Manlet was dwarfis… No burly, big Blunderbore he; And he wearily gazed on the crawfi… His Wifelet had dressed for his t… ‘Now reach me, sweet Atom, my gun…
How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin,