#EnglishWriters
The nearly right And yet not quite In love is wholly evil And every heart That loves in part
I like to get off with people, I like to lie in their arms I like to be held and lightly kiss… Safe from all alarms. I like to laugh and be happy
He told his life story to Mrs. Co… Who was a widow. 'Let us get marr… He said. ‘I am no longer passiona… But we can have some conversation…
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…
My life is vile I hate it so I’ll wait awhile And then I’ll go. Why wait at all?
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…
Happiness is silent, or speaks equ… Grief is explicit and her song nev… Happiness is like England, and wi… Grief, like Guilt, rushes in and…
Drugs made Pauline vague. She sat one day at the breakfast t… Fingering in a baffled way The fronds of the maidenhair plant… Was it the salt you were looking f…
I do not ask for mercy for underst… And in these heavy days I do not… I do not ask that suffering shall… I do not pray to God to let me di… To give an ear attentive to my cry
Walking swiftly with a dreadful du… He smiled too briefly, his face wa… He jumped into a taxi when he saw… Leaving my alone with a private me… He loves me so much, my heart is s…
Away, melancholy, Away with it, let it go. Are not the trees green, The earth as green? Does not the wind blow,
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…
Was he married, did he try To support as he grew less fond of… Wife and family? No, He never suffered such a blow.
There is a face I know too well, A face I dread to see, So vain it is, so eloquent Of all futility. It is a human face that hides