#EnglishWriters
Ever, ever Stir and shiver The reeds and rushes By the river: Ever, ever,
At the edge of All the Ages A Knight sate on his steed, His armor red and thin with rust His soul from sorrow freed; And he lifted up his visor
Suppose... and suppose that a wild… Came cantering out of the sky, With bridle of silver, and into th… To fly—and to fly; And we stretched up into the air,…
Three jolly Farmers Once bet a pound Each dance the others would Off the ground. Out of their coats
A song of Enchantment I sang me t… In a green-green wood, by waters f… Just as the words came up to me I sang it under the wild wood tree… Widdershins turned I, singing it…
Grief hath pacified her face; Even hope might share so still a p… Yet, on the silence of her heart, Haply, if a strange footfall start… Or a chance word of ecstasy
Come, Death, I’d have a word with… And thou, poor Innocency; And Love - a lad with broken win… Apnd Pity, too; The Fool shall sing to you,
Dim-berried is the mistletoe With globes of sheenless grey, The holly mid ten thousand thorns Smoulders its fires away; And in the manger Jesus sleeps
I can’t abear a butcher, I can’t abide his meat, The ugliest shop of all is his, The ugliest in the street; Bakers’ are warm, cobblers’ dark
As I was walking, Thyme sweet to my nose, Green grasshoppers talking, Rose rivalling rose: And wing, like amber,
Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo—flew off three, Leaving thirty in the tree; Called Melmillo—nine now gone,
It’s a very odd thing - As odd can be - That whatever Miss T eats Turns into Miss T.; Porridge and apples,
When music sounds, gone is the ear… And all her lovely things even lov… Her flowers in vision flame, her f… Lift burdened branches, stilled wi… When music sounds, out of the wate…
Hi! Handsome hunting man, Fire your little gun, Bang! Now that animal Is dead and dumb and done. Never more to peep again, creep ag…
When thin-strewn memory I look th… I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair—her muffled wor… And how she’d open her green eyes,