#EnglishWriters
Often and often it came back again To mind, the day I passed the hor… To a new country, the path I had… By half-gaps that were stiles once… The pack of scarlet clouds running…
‘He has robbed two clubs. The jud… Can’t give him more than he undoub… Deserves. The scoundrel! Look at… A lady-killer! Hanging’s too good… For such as he.' So said the stra…
As the clouds that are so light, Beautiful, swift, and bright, Cast shadows on field and park Of the earth that is so dark, And even so now, light one!
This ploughman dead in battle slep… Many a frozen night, and merrily Answered staid drinkers, good bedm… “At Mrs Greenland’s Hawthorn Bus… “I slept.” None knew which bush.…
The Combe was ever dark, ancient… Its mouth is stopped with brambles… And no one scrambles over the slid… By beech and yew and perishing jun… Down the half precipices of its si…
WHAT does it mean? Tired, angry,… No man, woman, or child alive coul… Me now. And yet I almost dare to… Because I sit and frame an epitap… ‘Here lies all that no one loved o…
The glory of the beauty of the mor… The cuckoo crying over the untouch… The blackbird that has found it, a… That tempts me on to something swe… White clouds ranged even and fair…
She had a name among the children; But no one loved though someone ow… Her, locked her out of doors at be… And had her kittens duly drowned. In Spring, nevertheless, this cat
One hour: as dim he and his house… As a reflection in a rippling broo… While I remember him; but first,… Empty it sounded. It was dark wit… That brushed the walls and made th…
Out in the sun the goldfinch flits Along the thistle-tops, flits and… Above the hollow wood Where birds swim like fish - Fish that laugh and shriek -
The green roads that end in the fo… Are strewn with white goose feathe… Life marks left behind by someone… To show his track. But he has nev… Down each green road a cottage loo…
What matter makes my spade for tea… Letting down two clay pipes into t… The one I smoked, the other a sol… Of Blenheim, Ramillies, and Malp… Perhaps. The dead man’s immortali…
Gone the wild day: A wilder night Coming makes way For brief twilight. Where the firm soaked road
Over the land freckled with snow h… The speculating rooks at their nes… And saw from elm-tops, delicate as… What we below could not see, Wint…
It was upon a July evening. At a stile I stood, looking along… Over the country by a second Spri… Drenched perfect green again. ‘Th… Will be a fine one.’ So the stran…