#EnglishWriters
If you would happy company win, Dangle a palm-nut from a tree, Idly in green to sway and spin, Its snow-pulped kernel for bait; a… A nimble titmouse enter in.
Old and alone, sit we, Caged, riddle-rid men; Lost to earth’s ‘Listen!’ and ‘Se… Thought’s ‘Wherefore?’ and ‘When?… Only far memories stray
The seas of England are our old d… Let the loud billow of the shingly… Sing freedom on her breezes evermo… To all earth’s ships that sailing… The gaunt sea-nettle be our fortit…
When I lie where shades of darkne… Shall no more assail mine eyes, Nor the rain make lamentation When the wind sighs; How will fare the world whose wond…
Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched wi… Old Nod, the shepherd, goes. His drowsy flock streams on before…
When the last colours of the day Have from their burning ebbed away… About that ruin, cold and lone, The cricket shrills from stone to… And scattering o’er its darkened g…
Now, through the dusk With muffled bell The Dustman comes The World to tell, Night’s elfin lanterns
Far are those tranquil hills, Dyed with fair evening’s rose; On urgent, secret errand bent, A traveller goes. Approach him strangers three,
Speak not ' whisper not; Here bloweth thyme and bergamot; Softly on the evening hour, Secret herbs their spices shower, Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh,
Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where fal…
Dark frost was in the air without, The dusk was still with cold and g… When less than even a shadow came And stood within the room. But the three around the fire,
Hi! Handsome hunting man, Fire your little gun, Bang! Now that animal Is dead and dumb and done. Never more to peep again, creep ag…
Puss loves man’s winter fire Now that the sun so soon Leaves the hours cold it warmed In burning June. She purrs full length before
Have you been catching fish, Tom… Have you snared a weeping hare? Have you whistled 'No Nunny’ and… Or blinded a bird of the air? Have you trod like a murderer thro…
When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing loveliness,