#EnglishWriters
I watched you saunter down the san… Serene and large, the golden weath… Flowed radiant round your peacock… And glistered from your jewelled h… Your tawny hair, turned strand on…
She’s an enchanting little Israel… A world of hidden dimples!—Dusky-… A starry-glancing daughter of the… With hair escaped from some Arabi… Her lip is red, her cheek is golde…
Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
These, to you now, O, more than e… Now that the Ancient Enemy Has passed, and we, we two that ar… A piece of perfect Life Turn to so ravishing a shape of D…
Space and dread and the dark - Over a livid stretch of sky Cloud-monsters crawling, like a fu… Of huge, primeval presences Stooping beneath the weight
Where are the passions they essaye… And where the tears they made to f… Where the wild humours they portra… For laughing worlds to see and kno… Othello’s wrath and Juliet’s woe?
I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it to her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,
Laughs the happy April morn Thro’ my grimy, little window, And a shaft of sunshine pushes Thro’ the shadows in the square. Dogs are tracing thro’ the grass,
In the year that’s come and gone,… Stooping slowly, gave us heart, an… In the year that’s coming on, thou… We at least will not forget aught… In the year that’s come and gone,…
A hard north-easter fifty winters… Has bronzed and shrivelled sere he… Her locks are wild and grey, her t… Her foot is vast, her bowed leg sp… A wide blue cloak, a squat and stu…
He’s called The General from the… And dash with which he sneaks a bi… And all its fares; challenged, or… Back-answers of the newest he’ll e… He reins his horses with an air; h…
She sauntered by the swinging seas… A jewel glittered at her ear, And, teasing her along, the breeze Brought many a rounded grace more… So passing, one with wave and beam…
O, have you blessed, behind the st… The blue sheen of the skies, When June the roses round her cal… Then do you know the light that fa… From her beloved eyes.
Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence relea… From the most squalid cellerage of… The Wind—Fiend, the abominable—
Two and thirty is the ploughman. He’s a man of gallant inches, And his hair is close and curly, And his beard; But his face is wan and sunken,