#EnglishWriters
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
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…
Henry Adams Was mortally afraid of Madams: In a disorderly house He sat quiet as a mouse. Mallarmé
Here war is simple like a monument… A telephone is speaking to a man; Flags on a map assert that troops… A boy brings milk in bowls. There… For living men in terror of their…
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave
Underneath an abject willow, Lover, sulk no more: Act from thought should quickly fo… What is thinking for? Your unique and moping station
When shall we learn, what should b… We cannot choose what we are free… Although the mouse we banished yes… Is an enraged rhinoceros today, Our value is more threatened than…
Warm are the still and lucky miles… White shores of longing stretch aw… A light of recognition fills The whole great day, and bright The tiny world of lovers’ arms.
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…
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
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,…
Dear, though the night is gone, Its dream still haunts to-day, That brought us to a room Cavernous, lofty as A railway terminus,
Time will say nothing but I told… Time only knows the price we have… If I could tell you I would let y… If we should weep when clowns put… If we should stumble when musician…
Sharp and silent in the Clear October lighting Of a Sunday morning The great city lies; And I at a window
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,