#EnglishWriters
Seated after breakfast In this white-tiled cabin Arabs call the House where Everybody goes, Even melancholics
He was found by the Bureau of Sta… One against whom there was no offi… And all the reports on his conduct… That, in the modern sense of an ol… saint,
Deftly, admiral, cast your fly Into the slow deep hover, Till the wise old trout mistake an… Salt are the deeps that cover The glittering fleets you led,
Let me tell you a little story About Miss Edith Gee; She lived in Clevedon Terrace At number 83. She’d a slight squint in her left…
Out of a bellicose fore-time, thun… head-on collisions of cloud and ro… up-thrust, crevasse-and-avalanche,… deadly to breathers, it whelms into our picture below t…
So an age ended, and its last deli… In bed, grown idle and unhappy; th… The sudden shadow of a giant’s eno… Would fall no more at dusk across… They slept in peace: in marshes he…
It’s natural the Boys should whoo… so huge a phallic triumph, an adve… it would not have occurred to wome… to think worth while, made possibl… because we like huddling in gangs…
For what as easy For what thought small, For what is well Because between, To you simply
At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, the delicious story is ripe to tel… to tell to the intimate friend; over the tea-cups and into the squ…
Encased in talent like a uniform, The rank of every poet is well kno… They can amaze us like a thunderst… Or die so young, or live for years… They can dash forward like hussars…
For us like any other fugitive, Like the numberless flowers that c… And all the beasts that need not r… It is today in which we live. So many try to say Not Now,
A shilling life will give you all… How Father beat him, how he ran a… What were the struggles of his you… Made him the greatest figure of hi… Of how he fought, fished, hunted,…
Did you ever hear about Cocaine L… She lived in Cocaine town on Coca… She had a cocaine dog and a cocain… They fought all night with a cocai… She had cocaine hair on her cocain…
Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can br…
Poet, oracle and wit Like unsuccessful anglers by Th ponds of apperception sit, Baiting with the wrong request The vectors of their interest;