A Letter (Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch Poems)
After W. M. P.Dear Kitty,At length the term's ending;I 'm in for my Schools in a week;And the time that ...
After W. M. P.Dear Kitty,At length the term's ending;I 'm in for my Schools in a week;And the time that ...
Times I think I'm not the man- Must be some mistake.Me among the also ran? Cute and wideawake!Old and beat and crotchety- Sixty-five, ...
When real Blessings are to Men deny'd,With airy Hopes they gratify their Pride;To every Wretch this Privilege extends,However void of ...
THE Jester shook his hood and bells, and leaped upon a chair,The pages laughed, the women screamed, and tossed their ...
By Sir W. S.I.St. Giles's street is fair and wide,St. Giles's street is long;But long or wide, may naught abideTherein ...
In days of old, when Wesley's powerGathered new strength by every hour;Apostate Will, just sunk in trade,Resolved his bargain should ...
Are they clinging to their crosses,F. E. Smith,Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,Are they, Smith?Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,Wait the news ...
Thou little village curate, Come quick, and do not wait;We'll sit and talk together, So sweetly _tete-a-tete_.Oh do not fear the railway Because ...
Ah me! what mighty perils waitThe man who meddles with a state,Whether to strengthen, or oppose!False are his friends, and ...
The mighty spirit, and its power, which stainsThe bloodless cheek, and vivifies the brains,I sing. Say, ye, its fiery vot'ries ...
THE VICAR.WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,Sleep the departed Vicars of the place;Of most, all mention, memory, thought ...
There was a cobbler once, who sang all day;'Twas wonderful to see the man, and thenTo hear him quavering away,Happier ...
A CERTAIN pious rector (John his name), But little preached, except when vintage came; And then no preparation he required ...
John Grubby who was short and stout And troubled with religious doubt, Refused about the age of three To sit ...
Are they clinging to their crosses, F. E. Smith, Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses, Are they, Smith? Do they, fasting, ...
THE PROLOGUE. The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood, Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious That ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
Dosn't thou 'ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaäy? Proputty, proputty, proputty--that's what I 'ears 'em saäy. Proputty, proputty, ...
'Why did the lady in the lift Slap that poor parson's face?' Said Mother, thinking as she sniffed, Of clerical ...
"Let's make him a sailor," said Father, "And he will adventure the sea." "A soldier," said Mother, "is rather What ...
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