#EnglishWriters
Warm are the still and lucky miles… White shores of longing stretch aw… A light of recognition fills The whole great day, and bright The tiny world of lovers’ arms.
Let a florid music praise, The flute and the trumpet, Beauty’s conquest of your face: In that land of flesh and bone, Where from citadels on high
Look, stranger, at this island now The leaping light for your delight… Stand stable here And silent be, That through the channels of the e…
Anthropos apteros for days Walked whistling round and round t… Relying happily upon His temperment for getting on. The hundredth time he sighted, tho…
Ours yet not ours, being set apart As a shrine to friendship, Empty and silent most of the year, This room awaits from you What you alone, as visitor, can br…
Victor was a little baby, Into this world he came; His father took him on his knee an… 'Don’t dishonour the family name.' Victor looked up at his father
Did you ever hear about Cocaine L… She lived in Cocaine town on Coca… She had a cocaine dog and a cocain… They fought all night with a cocai… She had cocaine hair on her cocain…
Now the leaves are falling fast, Nurse’s flowers will not last; Nurses to the graves are gone, And the prams go rolling on. Whispering neighbours, left and ri…
Doom is dark and deeper than any s… Upon what man it fall In spring, day-wishing flowers app… Avalanche sliding, white snow from… That he should leave his house,
For us like any other fugitive, Like the numberless flowers that c… And all the beasts that need not r… It is today in which we live. So many try to say Not Now,
Say this city has ten million soul… Some are living in mansions, some… Yet there’s no place for us, my de… Once we had a country and we thoug… Look in the atlas and you’ll find…
Chaucer, Langland, Douglas, Dunb… brother Anons, how on earth did yo… without anaesthetics or plumbing, in daily peril from witches, warlo… lepers, The Holy Office, foreign…
She looked over his shoulder For vines and olive trees, Marble well-governed cities And ships upon untamed seas, But there on the shining metal
Our hunting fathers told the story Of the sadness of the creatures, Pitied the limits and the lack Set in their finished features; Saw in the lion’s intolerant look,
Let me tell you a little story About Miss Edith Gee; She lived in Clevedon Terrace At number 83. She’d a slight squint in her left…