From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
#EnglishWriters #Victorian Adventures Alice's Wonderland in
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?”… “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…
BEAUTIFUL Soup, so rich and g… Waiting in a hot tureen! Who for such dainties would not st… Soup of the evening, beautiful So… Soup of the evening, beautiful So…
“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…
The Banker’s Fate 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…
‘Tis the voice of the Lobster: I… ’You have baked me too brown, I m… As a duck with its eyelids, so he… Trims his belt and his buttons, an… When the sands are all dry, he is…
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…
“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.”
There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other tw...
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,
When midnight mists are creeping, And all the land is sleeping, Around me tread the mighty dead, And slowly pass away. Lo, warriors, saints, and sages,
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...
A boat, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear,
There are certain things —a spider… The income—tax, gout, an umbrella… That I hate, but the thing that I… Is a thing they call the SEA. Pour some salt water over the floo…
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...