#EnglishWriters
Curly head, and laughing eyes,— Mischief that all blame defies. Cricket,—footer,—Eton-jacket,— Everlasting din and racket. Tennis,—boating,—socks and ties,—
By the grace of God and the coura… Of the peoples far and wide, By the toil and sweat of those who… And the blood of those who died, We have won the fight, we have sav…
The wind blows shrill along the hi… —Black is the night and cold— The sky hangs low with its weight… And the drifts are deep on the wol… But what care I for wind or snow?
You that still have your sight, Remember me!— I risked my life, I lost my eyes, That you might see. Now in the dark I go,
Just do your best, And leave the rest To Him who gave you Life,— And Zeal for Labour,—
In Christ there is no East or We… In Him no South or North, But one great Fellowship of Love Throughout the whole wide earth. In Him shall true hearts everywhe…
Flora, with wondrous feathers in h… Rain-soaked, and limp, and feeling… With flowers of sorts in her full… Back to the railings, there by Ch… And cursed the weather and a blank…
Every day is Judgment Day, Count on no to-morrow. He who will not, when he may, Act to-day, to-day, to-day, Doth but borrow
Free men of God, the New Day bre… In golden gleams across the sky; The darkness of the night is past, This is the Day of Victory. For this our fathers strove,
For every Guest who comes with hi… The Host compounds a strangely mi… Red Wine of Life and Dregs of Bi… And, will-he, nil-he, each must dr…
With the thirty pieces of silver, They bought the Potter’s Field; For none would have the blood-mone… And the interest it might yield. The Place of Blood for the Price…
Not for one single day Can I discern my way, But this I surely know,— Who gives the day, Will show the way,
Some have much, and some have more… Some are rich, and some are poor, Some have little, some have less, Some have not a cent to bless Their empty pockets, yet possess
There is darkness still, gross dar… On this fair earth of Thine. There are prisoners still in the p… Where never a light doth shine. There are doors still bolted again…
We thank Thee, Lord, For all Thy Golden Silences,— For every Sabbath from the world’… For every respite from the stress… Silence of moorlands rolling to th…