#EnglishWriters
Spring winds that blow As over leagues of myrtle-blooms a… Bevies of spring clouds trooping s… Like matrons heavy bosomed and agl… With the mild and placid pride of…
If it should come to be, This proof of you and me, This type and sign Of hours that smiled and shone, And yet seemed dead and gone
A wink from Hesper, falling Fast in the wintry sky, Comes through the even blue, Dear, like a word from you… Is it good-bye?
Carry me out Into the wind and the sunshine, Into the beautiful world. O, the wonder, the spell of the st… The stature and strength of the ho…
In the year that’s come and gone,… Stooping slowly, gave us heart, an… In the year that’s coming on, thou… We at least will not forget aught… In the year that’s come and gone,…
An ill March noon; the flagstones… An all-round east wind volleying s… St. Martin’s Steps, where every v… Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the p… And in the gutter, squelching a ro…
Spring at her height on a morn at… Sails that laugh from a flying squ… Pomp of harmony, rapture of rhyme… Youth is the sign of them, one and… Winter sunsets and leaves that fal…
Was I a Samurai renowned, Two-sworded, fierce, immense of bo… A histrion angular and profound? A priest? a porter?—Child, althou… I have forgotten clean, I know
Blithe dreams arise to greet us, And life feels clean and new, For the old love comes to meet us In the dawning and the dew. O’erblown with sunny shadows,
Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She’s the tenant of the room, He’s the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend,
O Falmouth is a fine town with sh… And I wish from my heart it’s the… I wish from my heart I was far aw… Sitting in my parlor and talking t… For it’s home, dearie home-it’s ho…
Gulls in an aery morrice Gleam and vanish and gleam . . . The full sea, sleepily basking, Dreams under skies of dream. Gulls in an aery morrice
‘As like the Woman as you can’ - (Thus the New Adam was beguiled)… ‘So shall you touch the Perfect M… (God in the Garden heard and smil… ‘Your father perished with his day…
St. Margaret’s bells, Quiring their innocent, old-world… Sing in the storied air, All rosy-and-golden, as with memor… Of woods at evensong, and sands an…
Though, if you ask her name, she s… Being plain Elizabeth, e’en let i… And own that, if her aspirates tak… She ever makes a point, in washing… Handling the engine, turning taps…