#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…
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…
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.
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…
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…
There was a young lady of Niger Who smiled as she rode on a tiger; They returned from the ride With the lady inside, And the smile on the face of the t…
There once was an old monk of Bas… Whose salads were something amazin… But he told his confessor That Nebuchadnezzar Had given him hints upon grazing.
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.
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,
WHO remains in London, In the streets with me, Now that Spring is blowing Warm winds from the sea; Now that trees grow green and tall…
I HAVE two sons, wife’ Two, and yet the same; One his wild way runs, wife, Bringing us to shame. The one is bearded, sunburnt, grim…
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.
True—there are books and books. T… For instance, and there’s Bacon; There’s Longfellow, and Monstrele… And also Colton’s “ Lacon,” With “Laws of Whist” and those o…
Sing a song of Spring-time, The world is going round, Blown by the south wind: Listen to its sound. ‘Gurgle’ goes the mill-wheel,