#EnglishWriters
If it should come to be, This proof of you and me, This type and sign Of hours that smiled and shone, And yet seemed dead and gone
Time, the old humourist, has a tri… Of moving landmarks and of levelli… Till into Town the Suburbs edge t… And in the Suburbs you may scent… With Mount Street thus approachin…
O Falmouth is a fine town with sh… And I wish from my heart it’s the… I wish from my heart I was far aw… Sitting in my parlor and talking t… For it’s home, dearie home-it’s ho…
If I were king, my pipe should be… The skies of time and chance are s… We would inform them all with blan… Delight alone would need to shed a… For dream and deed should war no m…
Something is dead . . . The grace of sunset solitudes, the… Of the solitary moon, the pomp and… Of round on round of shining soldi… Patrolling space, the bounties of…
In the placid summer midnight, Under the drowsy sky, I seem to hear in the stillness The moths go glimmering by. One by one from the windows
His beat lies knee—high through a… A dust of terror and torture, grie… Ghosts that are England’s wonder,… Throng where he walks, an antic of… A sense of long immedicable tears
O, have you blessed, behind the st… The blue sheen of the skies, When June the roses round her cal… Then do you know the light that fa… From her beloved eyes.
Bring her again, O western wind, Over the western sea! Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me! Not that her fancy holds me dear,
As with varnish red and glistening Dripped his hair; his feet looked… Raised, he settled stiffly sideway… You could see his hurts were spina… He had fallen from an engine,
Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and t… Low-brooding, interpenetrating all…
St. Margaret’s bells, Quiring their innocent, old-world… Sing in the storied air, All rosy-and-golden, as with memor… Of woods at evensong, and sands an…
Midsummer midnight skies, Midsummer midnight influences and… The shining, sensitive silver of t… Touched with the strange-hued blaz… And all so solemnly still I seem…
We’ll go no more a-roving by the l… November glooms are barren beside… The summer flowers are faded, the… We’ll go no more a-roving, lest wo… We’ll go no more a-roving by the l…