#EnglishWriters
(After Horace) Let others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas;
This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts o… And heard the words that one by on… The touch of Life has turn’d to t… Here in a day that is not far,
O Saint whose thousand shrines ou… And our eyes loved thy lamp’s eter… Dim earthly radiance of the Unkno… Hope of the darkness, light of the… Far off, far off and faint, O gli…
“Ye have robb’d,” said he, “ye hav… Take your ill-got plunder, and bur… What will ye more of your guest an… “Blood for our blood,” they said. He laugh’d: “If one may settle th…
Lad, and can you rest now, There beneath your hill! Your hands are on your breast now, But is your heart so still? ’Twas the right death to die, lad,
Riding at dawn, riding alone, Gillespie left the town behind; Before he turned by the Westward… A horseman crossed him, staggering… ‘The Devil’s abroad in false Vell…
Down thy valleys, Ireland, Irelan… Down thy valleys green and sad, Still thy spirit wanders wailing, Wanders wailing, wanders mad. Long ago that anguish took thee,
She is a lady fair and wise, Her heart her counsel keeps, And well she knows of time that fl… And tide that onward sweeps; But still she sits with restless e…
O Son of mine, when dusk shall fi… Between a gravestone and a cradle’… Between the love whose name is los… And the young love whose thoughts… Thou too shalt groan at heart that…
Sitting at times over a hearth tha… With dull domestic glow, My thought, leaving the book, grat… To you who planned it so. Not of the great only you deigned…
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nin… When Hawke came swooping from the… The French King’s Admiral with t… Was sailing forth to sack us, out… The ports of France were crowded,…
I sat by the granite pillar, and s… Where the sunlight fell of old, And the hour was the hour my heart… And the sermon rolled and rolled As it used to roll when the place…
In The Time Of War And Tumults O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hand… Despair and victory give; In whom, though tyrants tread thei… The souls of nations live;
(A Lady of Tender Age) Ladies, where were your bright eye… Where were they glancing yester-ni… Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing, Imogen dancing all in white?
With sanguine looks And rolling walk Among the rooks He loved to stalk, While on the land