#EnglishWriters
As the poets have mournfully sung, Death takes the innocent young, The rolling-in-money, The screamingly-funny, And those who are very well hung.
Give me a doctor partridge-plump, Short in the leg and broad in the… An endomorph with gentle hands Who’ll never make absurd demands That I abandon all my vices
Deftly, admiral, cast your fly Into the slow deep hover, Till the wise old trout mistake an… Salt are the deeps that cover The glittering fleets you led,
Around them boomed the rhetoric of… The smells and furniture of the kn… Where conscience worshipped an aes… And what was unsuccessful was cond… And, at the centre of its vast sel…
If it form the one landscape that… Are consistently homesick for, thi… Because it dissolves in water. Ma… With their surface fragrance of th… A secret system of caves and condu…
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave
Henry Adams Was mortally afraid of Madams: In a disorderly house He sat quiet as a mouse. Mallarmé
Anthropos apteros for days Walked whistling round and round t… Relying happily upon His temperment for getting on. The hundredth time he sighted, tho…
Nobody I know would like to be bu… with a silver cocktail-shaker, a transistor radio and a strangled daily help, or keep his word becau… of a great-great-grandmother who g…
The Hidden Law does not deny Our laws of probability, But takes the atom and the star And human beings as they are, And answers nothing when we lie.
Perfectly happy now, he looked at… An exile making watches glanced up… And went on working; where a hospi… A joiner touched his cap; an agent… Some of the trees he’d planted wer…
Base words are uttered only by the… And can for such at once be unders… But noble platitudes:—ah, there’s… Where the most careful scrutiny is… To tell a voice that’s genuinely g…
We made all possible preparations, Drew up a list of firms, Constantly revised our calculation… And allotted the farms, Issued all the orders expedient
This lunar beauty Has no history Is complete and early, If beauty later Bear any feature
Lady, weeping at the crossroads, Would you meet your love In the twilight with his greyhound… And the hawk on his glove? Bribe the birds then on the branch…