#EnglishWriters
They should never have built a bar… Drip, drip, drip! - under that elm… Though when it was young. Now it… But good, not like the barn and me… To-morrow they cut it down. They…
‘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…
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.…
No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through
To-day I think Only with scents, - scents dead le… And bracken, and wild carrot’s see… And the square mustard field; Odours that rise
The sorrow of true love is a great… And true love parting blackens a b… Yet almost they equal joys, since… Is but hope blinded by its tears,… Above the storm the heavens wait t…
There they stand, on their ends, t… That once were underwood of hazel… In Jenny Pink’s copse. Now, by t… Close packed, they make a thicket… Can creep through with the mouse a…
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…
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…
The flowers left thick at nightfal… This Eastertide call into mind th… Now far from home, who, with their… Have gathered them and will do nev…
And you, Helen, what should I giv… So many things I would give you Had I an infinite great store Offered me and I stood before To choose. I would give you youth…
THE rock-like mud unfroze a littl… Ran and sparkled down each side of… Under the catkins wagging in the h… But earth would have her sleep out… Nor did I value that thin gilding…
The skylarks are far behind that s… I can hear no more those suburb ni… Thrushes and blackbirds sing in th… In vain: the noise of man, beast,… But the call of children in the un…
THE long small room that showed w… Narrowed up to the end the firepla… Although not wide. I liked it. No… What need or accident made them so… Only the moon, the mouse, and the…
In the gloom of whiteness, In the great silence of snow, A child was sighing And bitterly saying: “Oh, They have killed a white bird up t…