#EnglishWriters
(After Horace) Let others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas;
Sitting at times over a hearth tha… With dull domestic glow, My thought, leaving the book, grat… To you who planned it so. Not of the great only you deigned…
(Old French) Memories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, No more dumb; Delicate phantoms softly creeping
He gave us all a good-bye cheerily At the first dawn of day; We dropped him down the side full… When the light died away. It’s a dead dark watch that he’s a…
(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,
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,…
By the hearth-stone She sits alone, The long night bearing: With eyes that gleam Into the dream
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,
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,
I sat by the granite pillar, and s… Where the sunlight fell of old, And the hour was the hour my heart… And the sermon rolled and rolled As it used to roll when the place…
Over the turret, shut in his iron-… Craven was conning his ship throug… Gun to gun he had battered the for… Now was the time for a charge to e… There lay the narrowing channel, s…
Lad, and can you rest now, There beneath your hill! Your hands are on your breast now, But is your heart so still? ’Twas the right death to die, lad,
‘Hark ye, hark to the winding horn… Sluggards, awake, and front the mo… Hark ye, hark to the winding horn; The sun’s on meadow and mill. Follow me, hearts that love the ch…
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…
“Ye have robb’d,” said he, “ye hav… Take your ill-got plunder, and bur… What will ye more of your guest an… “Blood for our blood,” they said. He laugh’d: “If one may settle th…