#EnglishWriters #Victorian
I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A—sitting on a gate. “Who are you, aged man?” I said,
Five little girls, of Five, Four,… Rolling on the hearthrug, full of… Five rosy girls, in years from Te… Sitting down to lessons —no more t… Five growing girls, from Fifteen…
CHAPTER V. Advice from a Caterpillar The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and...
Poeta Fit, Non Nascitur “How shall I be a poet? How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once ‘the very wish Partook of the sublime.’
Inscribed to a Dear Child: In Memory of Golden Summer Hours And Whispers of a Summer Sea Girt with a boyish garb for boyish… Eager she wields her spade: yet lo…
The Hunting The Bellman looked uffish, and wr… “If only you’d spoken before! It’s excessively awkward to mentio… With the Snark, so to speak, at t…
“Are you deaf, Father William!” t… “Did you hear what I told you jus… ”Excuse me for shouting! Don’t wa… “Like a blundering, sleepy old cow… ”A little maid dwelling in Wallin…
‘Haddock’s Eyes’ or 'The Aged Ag… 'Ways and Means’ or 'A-Sitting O… I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate. I saw an aged, aged man,
The Mad Gardener’s Song He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife.
Lays of Mystery, Imagination, and Humor Number 1 I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls, And each damp thing that creeps an…
ONE winter night, at half—past ni… Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, I had come home, too late to dine, And supper, with cigars and wine, Was waiting in the study.
The day was wet, the rain fell sou… Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a sound was heard in the old henhous… A beating of a hammer. Of stalwart form, and visage warm,
AY, 'twas here, on this spot, In that summer of yore, Atalanta did not Vote my presence a bore, Nor reply to my tenderest talk “S…
Lady Clara Vere de Vere Was eight years old, she said: Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran… She took her little porringer: Of me she shall not win renown:
He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife: He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife. ‘At length I realise,’ he said,