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“She is a black statue in a whitewashed wooden chair, a dilapidated board house, sitting still till dusk spreads her silk petticoat across the sagging sky and bats swarm into the evening’s canvas.”
“The English language is nobody's special property. It is the property of the imagination: it is the property of the language itself” – Derek Walcott
Once this poem is finished, you may find me/both taking and giving breath, wherever I can.' Tom Pow,' 'The Bar at the Well of Love'
B. 1828 D. 1909
Around the ancient track march'd, rank on rank, the army of unalterable law. - George Meredith 'Lucifer In Starlight'
B. 1874 D. 1936
Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, the rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. - G.K. Chesterton 'The Rolling English Road'
B. 1771 D. 1832
The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.' - Walter Scott 'Proud Maisie'
B. 1640 D. 1689
A thousand martyrs I have made, all sacrificed to my desire. - Aphra Behn 'A Thousand Martyrs'