#EnglishWriters
After T. I. As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamyng… O softlye moaned the dove to her m… And meseemed unto my syghte Came rydynge many a knyghte
Senex. Saye, cushat, callynge fro… What ayles thee soe to pyne? Thy carefulle heart shall cease to… When dayes be fyne And greene thynges twyne:
Nay, more than violets These thoughts of thine, friend! Rather thy reedy brook— Taw’s tributary— At midnight murmuring,
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’
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 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-…
E. W. B. Archbishop of Canterbury: sometim… of Truro. October 1896 The Church’s outpost on a neck of… By ebb of faith the foremost left…
Hush! and again the chatter of the… Athwart the lawn! Lean your head close and closer.… It is the dawn. Dawn in the dusk of her dream,
All night a fountain pleads, Telling her beads, Her tinkling beads monotonous 'nea… And where she springs atween, Two statues lean—
By O—r K—m. Wake! for the closed Pavilion doo… Their silence while the white-eyed… And wailed the Nightingale with ‘… Whereat, for empty cup, the White…
Down in the street the last late h… Still westward, but with backward… The harlot shuffles to her lonely… The tall policeman pauses but to t… A flash into the empty portico;
Deep, Love, yea, very deep. And in the dark exiled, I have no sense of light but still… And know the breast, but not the e… Saw ne’er his mother near, nor if…
Toiling love, loose your pack, All your sighs and tears unbind: Care’s a ware will break a back, Will not bend a maiden’s mind. In this State a man shall need
Small is my secret—let it pass— Small in your life the share I ha… Who sat beside you in the class, Awed by the bright superior lad: Whom yet with hot and eager face
IF a leaf rustled, she would star… And yet she died, a year ago. How had so frail a thing the heart To journey where she trembled so? And do they turn and turn in frigh…