#EnglishWriters
O waly, waly, my bonnie crew Gin ye maun bumpit be! And waly, waly, my Stroke sae tru… Ye leuk unpleasauntlie! O hae ye suppit the sad sherrie
To commemorate the virtue of Homo… Love, that in a tear was drown’d, Lives revived by a tear. Stella heard them mourn around Love that in a tear was drown’d,
O pastoral heart of England! like… Of green days telling with a quiet… O wave into the sunset flowing cal… O tirèd lark descending on the whe… Lies it all peace beyond the weste…
He. Aglai-a! Aglai-a! Sweet, awaken and be glad. She. Who is this that calls Aglaia?
Be aisy an’ list to a chune That’s sung of bowld Tim the Drag… Sure, ’twas he’d niver miss To be stalin’ a kiss, Or a brace, by the light of the mo…
By Lord T-n. So bluff Sir Leolin gave the brid… And when they married her, the lit… Had seldom seen a costlier ritual. The coach and pair alone were two-…
By Sir W. S. St. Giles’s street is fair and wi… St. Giles’s street is long; But long or wide, may naught abide Therein of guile or wrong;
Rudiments, Rudiments, and Rudimen… ‘Thinketh one made them i’ the fit… ‘Thinketh one made them with the ’… But not the answers; 'doubteth the… Only Guides, Helps, Analyses, su…
Who lives in suit of armour pent And hides himself behind a wall, For him is not the great event, The garland nor the Capitol. And is God’s guerdon less than th…
By A. C. S. The Centuries kiss and commingle, Cling, clasp, and are knit in a ch… No cycle but scorns to be single, No two but demur to be twain,
In youth I dreamed, as other yout… Of love, and thrummed an amateur g… To verses of my own,'a stout att… To hold communion with the Evenin… I wrote a sonnet, rhymed it, made…
All night a fountain pleads, Telling her beads, Her tinkling beads monotonous 'nea… And where she springs atween, Two statues lean—
Behold! I am not one that goes to… Professors. The elementary laws never apologis… I find letters from the Dean drop… signed by the Dean’s name’
NOT on the neck of prince or houn… Nor on a woman’s finger twin’d… May gold from the deriding ground Keep sacred that we sacred bind: Only the heel
Nay, more than violets These thoughts of thine, friend! Rather thy reedy brook— Taw’s tributary— At midnight murmuring,