#EnglishWriters #Victorian
He thought he saw an Elephant That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. “At length I realize,” he said,
The Mad Gardener’s Song He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife.
I have a fairy by my side Which says I must not sleep, When once in pain I loudly cried It said “You must not weep” If, full of mirth, I smile and gr…
With saddest music all day long She soothed her secret sorrow: At night she sighed “I fear 'twas… Such cheerful words to borrow. Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
CHAPTER VIII. The Queen’s Croquet-Ground A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it,...
Five little girls, of Five, Four,… Rolling on the hearthrug, full of… Five rosy girls, in years from Te… Sitting down to lessons —no more t… Five growing girls, from Fifteen…
I never loved a dear Gazelle— Nor anything that cost me much: High prices profit those who sell, But why should I be fond of such? To glad me with his soft black eye
“Are you deaf, Father William!” t… “Did you hear what I told you jus… ”Excuse me for shouting! Don’t wa… “Like a blundering, sleepy old cow… ”A little maid dwelling in Wallin…
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...
She’s all my fancy painted him (I make no idle boast); If he or you had lost a limb, Which would have suffered most? He said that you had been to her,
“AND did you really walk,” said… “On such a wretched night? I always fancied Ghosts could fly… If not exactly in the sky, Yet at a fairish height.”
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.
“Will you walk a little faster?” s… “There’s a porpoise close behind u… tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and t… They are waiting on the shingle—wi…
Blow, blow your trumpets till they… Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back — Gold—sucking leeches, shoals on sh… Fill all the air with hungry wails…
Little Birds are dining Warily and well, Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters Gorgeous in their gaiters —