#Americans #NobelPrize
Webster was much possessed by deat… And saw the skull beneath the skin… And breastless creatures under gro… Leaned backward with a lipless gri… Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Bustopher Jones is not skin and b… In fact, he’s remarkably fat. He doesn’t haunt pubs—he has eight… For he’s the St. James’s Street… He’s the Cat we all greet as he w…
POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE The sapient sutlers of the Lord Drift across the window—panes. In the beginning was the Word. In the beginning was the Word.
In my beginning is my end. In suc… Houses rise and fall, crumble, are… Are removed, destroyed, restored,… Is an open field, or a factory, or… Old stone to new building, old tim…
Jellicle Cats come out tonight, Jellicle Cats come one come all: The Jellicle Moon is shining brig… Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ba… Jellicle Cats are black and white…
Le garçon délabré qui n’a rien à f… Que de se gratter les doigts et se… ‘Dans mon pays il fera temps plu… Du vent, du grand soleil, et de… C’est ce qu’on appelle le jour d…
The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious… If you offer him pheasant he would… If you put him in a house he would… If you put him in a flat then he’d… If you set him on a mouse then he…
Miss Nancy Ellicott Strode across the hills and broke… Rode across the hills and broke th… The barren New England hills — Riding to hounds
There’s a whisper down the line at… When the Night Mail’s ready to de… Saying “Skimble where is Skimble… We must find him or the train can’… All the guards and all the porters…
Ils ont vu les Pays-Bas, ils rent… Mais une nuit d’été, les voici à… A l’aise entre deux draps, chez de… La sueur aestivale, et une forte o… Ils restent sur le dos écartant le…
I observe: “Our sentimental frien… Or possibly (fantastic, I confess… It may be Prester John’s balloon Or an old battered lantern hung al… To light poor travellers to their…
En l’an trentiesme do mon aage Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beu… Pipit sate upright in her chair Some distance from where I w… Views of the Oxford Colleges
Here I am, an old man in a dry mo… Being read to by a boy, waiting fo… I was neither at the hot gates Nor fought in the warm rain Nor knee deep in the salt marsh, h…
Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden… And lived in a small house near a… Cared for by servants to the numbe… Now when she died there was silenc… And silence at her end of the stre…
April is the cruellest month, bree… Lilacs out of the dead land, mixin… Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering