#EnglishWriters
CHILDREN indeed are we—childre… Within a wondrous dwelling, while… Stretch the sad vapors and the voi… The house is fair, yet all is deso… Because our Father comes not; clo…
There was a young lady named Laur… Who went to the wilds of Angora, She came back on a goat With a beautiful coat, And notes of the fauna and flora.
There was a young lady of Wilts, Who walked up to Scotland on stil… When they said it was shocking To show so much stocking She answered: “Then what about ki…
UNDER her gentle seeing, In her delicate little hand, They placed the Book of Being, To read and understand. The Book was mighty and olden,
There once was an old man of Lyme Who married three wives at a time, When asked, “Why a third?” He replied, "One’s absurd! And bigamy, sir, is a crime.
There was a young lady of Wilts, Who walked up to Scotland on stil… When they said it was shocking To show so much stocking She answered: ‘Then what about ki…
NOW, sitting by her side, worn ou… Behold, I fell to sleep, and had… Wherein I heard a wondrous Voice… Crying aloud, “The Master on His… Openeth now the seventh seal of wo…
TO the Wake of O’Hara Came company; All St. Patrick’s Alley Was there to see, With the friends and kinsmen
THERE is a singing in the summer… The blue and brown moths flutter o… The stubble bird is creaking in th… And perch’d upon the honeysuckle… Pipes the green linnet. Oh, the g…
Part I. A couple old sat o’er the fire, And they were bent and gray; They burned the charcoal for their… Who lived long leagues away.
PLAY me a march, low-ton’d and… Fit for the wandering feet of one… Lonely, between the bones below an… Here for a while they smil’d and… Here with the grass beneath the fo…
I would not wish thee other than t… I love thee, love, so well in ever… That had I power to change thee In form or face or mind, I could not find
WHEN He returns, and finds the w… All sleeping, young and old, unfai… Will he stoop down and whisper in… “Awaken!” or for pity’s sake forbe… Saying, “How shall I meet their f…
WHO calls me bold because I won… And did not pine, And waste my life with secret pain… To make him mine? I us’d no arts; ’t was Nature’s s…
HOW slowly creeps the hand of Ti… On the old clock’s green-mantled… Yea, slowly as those ivies climb, The hours roll round with patient… The drowsy rooks caw on the tower,