#EnglishWriters
The Druids waved their golden kni… And danced around the Oak WHen they had sacrificed a man; But though the learned search and… No single modern person can
There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeles… All men are at home. The crazy stable close at hand,
Great God, that bowest sky and st… Bow down our towering thoughts to… And grant us in a faltering war The firm feet of humility. Lord, we that snatch the swords of…
Are they clinging to their crosses… F. E. Smith, Where the Breton boat-fleet tosse… Are they, Smith? Do they, fasting, trembling, bleed…
SEE the flying French depart Like the bees of Bonaparte, Swarming up with a most venomous v… Over Baden and Bavaria, And Brighton and Bulgaria,
O God of earth and altar, Bow down and hear our cry Our earthly rulers falter, Our people drift and die; The walls of gold entomb us,
For every tiny town or place God made the stars especially; Babies look up with owlish face And see them tangled in a tree: You saw a moon from Sussex Downs,
John Grubby, who was short and st… And troubled with religious doubt, Refused about the age of three To sit upon the curate’s knee; (For so the eternal strife must ra…
Was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he He called for his pipe and he called for his bowl Cole, that unwearied prince of Co…
The hucksters haggle in the mart The cars and carts go by; Senates and schools go droning on; For dead things cannot die. A storm stooped on the place of to…
The Devil is a gentleman, and ask… At his little place at What’sitsn… They say the sport is splendid; th… And fairy scenes, and fearful feat… He can shoot the feathered cherubs…
Little Blue-Fits has lost his wit… And doesn’t know where to find the… Leave them alone and they’ll come… And leave their tales behind them. The remarkable tales, with remarka…
There has fallen on earth for a to… A god too great for the sky. He has burst out of all things and… The bounds of eternity: Into time and the terminal land
If I had been a Heathen, I’d have praised the purple vine, My slaves should dig the vineyards… And I would drink the wine. But Higgins is a Heathen,
Before the Roman came to Rye or o… The rolling English drunkard made… A reeling road, a rolling road, th… And after him the parson ran, the… A merry road, a mazy road, and suc…