#EnglishWriters
WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,
If it should come to be, This proof of you and me, This type and sign Of hours that smiled and shone, And yet seemed dead and gone
Take any station, pavement, circus… Where men their styles of print ma… And there—ten times more on it tha… There you shall find him swathed i… Nothing can stay the placing of hi…
Laughs the happy April morn Thro’ my grimy, little window, And a shaft of sunshine pushes Thro’ the shadows in the square. Dogs are tracing thro’ the grass,
‘Talk of pluck!’ pursued the Sail… Set at euchre on his elbow, ‘I was on the wharf at Charleston… Just ashore from off the runner. ’It was grey and dirty weather,
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
Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
Fresh from his fastnesses Wholesome and spacious, The North Wind, the mad huntsman, Halloas on his white hounds Over the grey, roaring
In the waste hour Between to-day and yesterday We watched, while on my arm - Living flesh of her flesh, bone of… Dabbled in sweat the sacred head
O, the fun, the fun and frolic That The Wind that Shakes the Ba… Scatters through a penny-whistle Tickled with artistic fingers! Kate the scrubber (forty summers,
A wink from Hesper, falling Fast in the wintry sky, Comes through the even blue, Dear, like a word from you… Is it good-bye?
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…
The gaunt brown walls Look infinite in their decent mean… There is nothing of home in the no… The fulsome fire. The atmosphere
Where are the passions they essaye… And where the tears they made to f… Where the wild humours they portra… For laughing worlds to see and kno… Othello’s wrath and Juliet’s woe?
Forth from the dust and din, The crush, the heat, the many-spot… The odour and sense of life and lu… The wrangle and jangle of unrests, Let us take horse, Dear Heart, ta…