#English
[From a souvenir programme produced for a fund raising benefit in London on 14th May 1912, for those affected by the sinking of the Titanic just a month previously. It includes poems an...
Old Noah he had an ostrich farm a… He ate his egg with a ladle in a e… And the soup he took was Elephant… But they all were small to the cel… And Noah he often said to his wif…
Lord Lilac thought it rather rott… That Shakespeare should be quite And therefore got on a Committee With several chaps out of the city… And Shorter and Sir Herbert Tree…
In the city set upon slime and loa… They cry in their parliament ‘Who… And there comes no answer in arch… For none in the city of graves goe… Yet these shall perish and underst…
When all my days are ending And I have no song to sing, I think that I shall not be too o… To stare at everything; As I stared once at a nursery doo…
“What of vile dust?” the preacher… Methought the whole world woke, The dead stone lived beneath my fo… And my whole body spoke. “You, that play tyrant to the dust…
I cannot understand the people who take literature seriously; but I can love them, and I do. Out of my love I warn them to keep clear of this book. It is a collection of crude and shape...
There is heard a hymn when the pan… And never before or again, When the nights are strong with a… And the dark is alive with rain. Never we know but in sleet and in…
I do not cry, beloved, neither cur… Silence and strength, these two at… He gave me sun and stars and aught… But not a woman’s love; for that i… He sealed her heart from sage and…
G. K. Chesterton’s tribute was pr… Lift up your heads; in life, in de… God knoweth his head was high; Quit we the coward’s broken breath… Who watched a strong man die.
The star-crowned cliffs seem hinge… The clouds are floating rags acros… They open to us like the gates of… Cloven in the last great wall of a… I looked, and saw the valley of my…
The men that worked for England They have their graves at home: And bees and birds of England About the cross can roam. But they that fought for England,
When I was a boy there were two curious men running about who were called the optimist and the pessimist. I constantly used the words myself, but I cheerfully confess that I never had a...
With leaves below and leaves above… And groping under tree and tree, I found the home of my true love, Who is a wandering home for me. Who, lost in ruined worlds aloof,
He left his dust, by all the myria… Of yon dense millions trampled to… Or 'neath some cross forgotten lay… Where dark seas whiten on a lonely… He left his work, what all his lif…