#EnglishWriters
Sisely Walked so nicely With footsteps so discreet To see her pass You’d never guess
Dearest Evelyn, I often think of… Out with the guns in the jungle st… Yesterday I hittapotamus I put the measurements down for yo… It’s not a good thing to drink out…
Mother, among the dustbins and the… I feel the measure of my humanity,… As of the presence of God, I am s… In the dustbins, in the manure, in… Is the presence of God, in a sure…
The lions who ate the Christians… By indulging native appetites play… Not entirely negligible part In consolidating at the very start The position of the Early Christi…
Our Bog is dood, our Bog is dood, They lisped in accents mild, But when I asked them to explain They grew a little wild. How do you know your Bog is dood
After reading Dr Rieu’s transla… Who is this that comes in splendou… This is he we had not thought of,… Airy, in an airy manner in an airy… Others take him by the hand, lead…
In the flame of the flickering fir… The sins of my soul are few And the thoughts in my head are th… With a solitary view. But the eye of eternal consciousne…
Do not despair of man, and do not… Who are you that you should so lig… Are you not also a man, and in you… Are there not warlike thoughts and… Are you not also afraid and in fea…
Coleridge received the Person fro… And ever after called him a curse, Then why did he hurry to let him i… He could have hid in the house. It was not right of Coleridge in…
My life is vile I hate it so I’ll wait awhile And then I’ll go. Why wait at all?
Tenuous and Precarious Were my guardians, Precarious and Tenuous, Two Romans. My father was Hazardous,
My heart goes out to my Creator i… Who gave me Death, as end and rem… All living creatures come to quiet… For him to eat up their activity And give them nothing, which is wh…
The nearly right And yet not quite In love is wholly evil And every heart That loves in part
Tender only to one Tender and true The petals swing To my fingering Is it you, or you, or you?
Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you th… And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking