"The Mother Hive", Actions and Reactions A Farmer of the Augustan Age Perused in Virgil's golden page The story of the secret won From Proteus by Cyrene's son, How the dank sea-god showed the swain...
Lo! What is this that I make, sudden, supreme, unrehearsed, This that my clutch in the crowd pressed at a venture has raised? Forward and onward I sprang when I thought (as I ought) I reversed,...
They christened my brother of old, And a saintly name he bears, They gave him his place to hold At the head of the belfry-stairs, Where the minister-towers stand And the breeding kestrels cry....
"Gay go up and gay go down To ring the Bells of London Town." When London Town's asleep in bed You'll hear the Bells ring overhead. In excelsis gloria! Ringing for Victoria,...
We know the Rocket's upward whizz; We know the Boom before the Bust. We know the whistling Wail which is The Stick returning to the Dust. We know how much to take on trust Of any promised Paradise....
Hastily Adam our driver swallowed a curse in the darkness, Petrol nigh at end and something wrong with a sprocket Made him speer for the nearest town, when lo! at the crossways...
Petrolio, vaunting his Mercedes' power, Vows she can cover eighty miles an hour. I tried the car of old and know she can. But dare he ever make her? Ask his man!
For things we never mention, For Art misunderstood, For excellent intention That did not turn to good; From ancient tales' renewing, From clouds we would not clear, Beyond the Law's pursuing...
In the daytime, when she moved about me, In the night, when she was sleeping at my side, I was wearied, I was wearied of her presence. Day by day and night by night I grew to hate her,...
One grief on me is laid Each day of every year, Wherein no soul can aid, Whereof no soul can hear: Whereto no end is seen Except to grieve again, Ah, Mary Magdalene,...
Pussy can sit by the fire and sing, Pussy can climb a tree, Or play with a silly old cork and string To 'muse herself, not me. But I like Binkie my dog, because He knows how to behave;...
"Here was a people whom after their works thou shalt see wept over for their lost dominion: and in this palace is the last information respecting lords collected in the dust.", The Arabian Nights. ...
The merry clerks of Oxenford they stretch themselves at ease Unhelmeted on unbleached sward beneath unshrivelled trees. For the leaves, the leaves, are on the bough, the bark is on the bole,...