#EnglishWriters #Victorian
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little ski… By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain prete…
The Bellman’s Speech The Bellman himself they all prai… Such a carriage, such ease and suc… Such solemnity, too! One could se… The moment one looked in his face!
CHAPTER V. Advice from a Caterpillar The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and...
The Landing “Just the place for a Snark!” the… As he landed his crew with care; Supporting each man on the top of… By a finger entwined in his hair.
Inscribed to a Dear Child: In Memory of Golden Summer Hours And Whispers of a Summer Sea Girt with a boyish garb for boyish… Eager she wields her spade: yet lo…
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no...
I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath you arching…
I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate, I saw an aged, aged man, A—sitting on a gate. ‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said.
And with that she began nursing her child again, sin… lullaby to it as she did so, and g… lent shake at the end of every lin… “Speak roughly to your little boy,
The Barrister’s Dream They sought it with thimbles, they… They pursued it with forks and hop… They threatened its life with a ra… They charmed it with smiles and so…
Why is it that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process of Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her sister—art Music? The Diluter gives us first a few notes of some w...
AY, 'twas here, on this spot, In that summer of yore, Atalanta did not Vote my presence a bore, Nor reply to my tenderest talk “S…
‘“Will you walk a little faster?”… “There’s a porpoise close behind u… See how eagerly the lobsters and t… They are waiting on the shingle—wi… Will you, won’t you, will you, won…
“OH, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped and chawed the buttered… They gave us for our tea.”
Man Naturally loves delay, And to procrastinate; Business put off from day to day Is always done to late. Let ever hour be in its place