#EnglishWriters
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,
Now through night’s caressing grip Earth and all her oceans slip, Capes of China slide away From her fingers into day And th’Americas incline
My dear one is mine as mirrors are… As the poor and sad are real to th… And the high green hill sits alway… Up jumped the Black Man behind th… Turned a somersault and ran away w…
It’s no use raising a shout. No, Honey, you can cut that right… I don’t want any more hugs; Make me some fresh tea, fetch me s… Here am I, here are you:But what…
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,
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave
And the age ended, and the last de… In bed, grown idle and unhappy; th… The sudden shadow of the giant’s e… Would fall no more at dusk across… They slept in peace: in marshes he…
We made all possible preparations, Drew up a list of firms, Constantly revised our calculation… And allotted the farms, Issued all the orders expedient
At Dirty Dick’s and Sloppy Joe’s We drank our liquor straight, Some went upstairs with Margery, And some, alas, with Kate; And two by two like cat and mouse
Each lover has some theory of his… About the difference between the a… Of being with his love, and being… Why what, when dreaming, is dear f… That really stirs the senses, when…
Look, stranger, at this island now The leaping light for your delight… Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the e…
Victor was a little baby, Into this world he came; His father took him on his knee an… 'Don’t dishonour the family name.' Victor looked up at his father
First Things First Woken, I lay in the arms of my ow… To a storm enjoying its storminess… Till my ear, as it can when half-a… Set to work to unscramble that int…
Some thirty inches from my nose The frontier of my Person goes, And all the untilled air between Is private pagus or demesne. Stranger, unless with bedroom eyes
Seated after breakfast In this white-tiled cabin Arabs call the House where Everybody goes, Even melancholics
