#EnglishWriters #Victorian
With saddest music all day long She soothed her secret sorrow: At night she sighed “I fear 'twas… Such cheerful words to borrow. Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
PREFACE If——and the thing is wildly possib… nonsense were ever brought against… instructive poem, it would be base… ``Then the bowsprit got mixed with…
Sent to a friend who had complaine… him when he came, but didn’t seem… And cannot pleasures, while they l… Be actual unless, when past, They leave us shuddering and aghas…
“MY First —but don’t suppose,” he… “I’m setting you a riddle – Is– if your Victim be in bed, Don’t touch the curtains at his he… But take them in the middle,
All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little ski… By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain prete…
I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath you arching…
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs choked his voice. ‘Same as if he ha...
Blow, blow your trumpets till they… Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back - Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on sh… Fill all the air with hungry wails…
The Vanishing They sought it with thimbles, they… They pursued it with forks and hop… They threatened its life with a ra… They charmed it with smiles and so…
‘Will you walk a little faster?’ s… ‘There’s a porpoise close behind u… See how eagerly the lobsters and t… They are waiting on the shingle—wi… Will you, won’t you, will you, won…
There are certain things —a spider… The income—tax, gout, an umbrella… That I hate, but the thing that I… Is a thing they call the SEA. Pour some salt water over the floo…
In stature the Manlet was dwarfis… No burly, big Blunderbore he; And he wearily gazed on the crawfi… His Wifelet had dressed for his t… ‘Now reach me, sweet Atom, my gun…
CHAPTER VIII. The Queen’s Croquet-Ground A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it,...
‘Tis the voice of the Lobster: I… ’You have baked me too brown, I m… As a duck with its eyelids, so he… Trims his belt and his buttons, an… When the sands are all dry, he is…
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no...