#EnglishWriters
Boys, are ye calling a toast to-ni… (Hear what the sea-wind saith) Fill for a bumper strong and brigh… And here’s to Admiral Death! He’s sailed in a hundred builds o’…
Riding at dawn, riding alone, Gillespie left the town behind; Before he turned by the Westward… A horseman crossed him, staggering… ‘The Devil’s abroad in false Vell…
Past seven o’clock: time to be gon… Twelfth-night’s over and dawn shiv… A hasty cut of the loaf, a steamin… Down to the door, and there is Co… Ruddy of cheek is John and bright…
Do ye ken hoo to fush for the salm… If ye’ll listen I’ll tell ye. Dinna trust to the books and their… They’re but trying to sell ye. Leave professors to read their ain…
Dear Earth, near Earth, the clay… The land we sowed, The hearth that glowed— O Mother, must we bid farewell to… Fast dawns the last dawn, and what…
(A Lady of Tender Age) Ladies, where were your bright eye… Where were they glancing yester-ni… Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing, Imogen dancing all in white?
Effingham, Grenville, Raleigh, D… Here’s to the bold and free! Benbow, Collingwood, Byron, Blak… Hail to the Kings of the Sea! Admirals all, for England’s sake,
(from the French of Wenceslas, Du… I cannot tell, of twain beneath th… Which one in grief the other goes… Narcissus, who to end the pain he… Died of the love that could not he…
(After Martial) Bernard, if to you and me Fortune all at once should give Years to spend secure and free, With the choice of how to live,
(After Martial) To-day, my friend is seventy-five; He tells his tale with no regret; His brave old eyes are steadfast y… His heart the .lightest heart aliv…
With sanguine looks And rolling walk Among the rooks He loved to stalk, While on the land
O Saint whose thousand shrines ou… And our eyes loved thy lamp’s eter… Dim earthly radiance of the Unkno… Hope of the darkness, light of the… Far off, far off and faint, O gli…
Down thy valleys, Ireland, Irelan… Down thy valleys green and sad, Still thy spirit wanders wailing, Wanders wailing, wanders mad. Long ago that anguish took thee,
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nin… When Hawke came swooping from the… The French King’s Admiral with t… Was sailing forth to sack us, out… The ports of France were crowded,…
His beauty bore no token, No sign our gladness shook; With tender strength unbroken The hand of Life he took: But the summer flowers were fallin…