#EnglishWriters
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…
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,…
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…
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…
Lover of England, stand awhile an… With thankful heart, and lips refr… They rest beyond the speech of hum… Who served with Nelson and with N…
With sanguine looks And rolling walk Among the rooks He loved to stalk, While on the land
(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…
(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?
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,
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…
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,
(Old French) Memories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, No more dumb; Delicate phantoms softly creeping
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,
(After Horace) Let others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas;
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…