Andante Con Moto (William Ernest Henley Poems)
Forth from the dust and din,The crush, the heat, the many-spotted glare,The odour and sense of life and lust aflare,The ...
William Ernest Henley Poems on Death & Dying (12 Poems)
A New Song to an Old Tune (William Ernest Henley Poems)
SONS of Shannon, Tamar, Trent,Men of the Lothians, Men of Kent,Essex, Wessex, shore and shire,Mates of the net, the mine, ...
A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies (William Ernest Henley Poems)
the quiet skies:And from the west,Where the sun, his day's work ended,Lingers as in content,There falls on the old, gray ...
At Queensferry (William Ernest Henley Poems)
The blackbird sang, the skies were clear and cleanWe bowled along a road that curved a spineSuperbly sinuous and serpentineThro' ...
A Child (William Ernest Henley Poems)
A child,Curious and innocent,Slips from his Nurse, and rejoicingLoses himself in the Fair.Thro' the jostle and dinWandering, he revels,Dreaming, desiring, ...
Ave, Caesar! (William Ernest Henley Poems)
From the winter's grey despair,From the summer's golden languor,Death, the lover of Life,Frees us for ever.Inevitable, silent, unseen,Everywhere always,Shadow by ...
Double Ballade on the Nothingness of Things (William Ernest Henley Poem)
The big teetotum twirls, And epochs wax and wane As chance subsides or swirls; But of the loss and gain ...
Margaritae Sorori (William Ernest Henley Poem)
A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies: And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers ...
England, My England (William Ernest Henley Poem)
WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With ...
London Voluntaries IV: Out of the Poisonous East (William Ernest Henley Poem)
Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence released From the most squalid cellerage ...
The Rain and the Wind (William Ernest Henley Poem)
The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain -- They are with us like a disease: They worry ...
There’s a Regret (William Ernest Henley Poems)
There's a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad. ... Do you not know it ...