#EnglishWriters
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…
(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,
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…
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,…
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,
(After Horace) Let others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas;
With failing feet and shoulders bo… Beneath the weight of happier days… He lagged among the heedless crowd… Or crept along suburban ways. But still through all his heart wa…
The Squire sat propped in a pillo… His eyes were alive and clear of c… But well he knew that the hour was… To bid good-bye to his ancient hom… He looked on garden, wood, and hil…
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…
She is a lady fair and wise, Her heart her counsel keeps, And well she knows of time that fl… And tide that onward sweeps; But still she sits with restless e…
Whisper it not that late in years Sorrow shall fade and the world be… Life be freed of tremor and tears, Heads be wiser and hearts be light… Ah! but the dream that all endears…
Mother, with unbowed head Hear thou across the sea The farewell of the dead, The dead who died for thee. Greet them again with tender words…
(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…
Praise thou with praise unending, The Master of the Wine; To all their portions sending Himself he mingled thine: The sea-born flush of morning,
O Son of mine, when dusk shall fi… Between a gravestone and a cradle’… Between the love whose name is los… And the young love whose thoughts… Thou too shalt groan at heart that…