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Poet

G. K. Chesterton

B. 1874 D. 1936

1 poem available

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'

Poet

Adelaide Anne Procter

B. 1825 D. 1864

1 poem available

While he is at rest, I am cursed still to live:- even Death loved him the best. - Adelaide Anne Procter 'Envy'

Poet

E. Nesbit

B. 1858 D. 1924

1 poem available

O God, you made me like to know, you kept the things straight in my head, please God, if you can make it so, let me know something when I'm dead. - E. Nesbit 'The Things That Matter'

Poet

Charlotte Mew

B. 1869 D. 1928

1 poem available

A frail, dead, new-born lamb, ghostly and pitiful and white a blot upon the night, the moon's dropped child! - Charlotte Mew, 'Fame'

Poet

Felicia Hemans

B. 1793 D. 1835

1 poem available

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, that well had borne their part - but the noblest thing which perish'd there, was that young faithful heart. - Felicia Hemans 'Casabianca'

Poet

Arthur Hugh Clough

B. 1819 D. 1861

1 poem available

'There is no God,' the wicked saith, 'and truly it's a blessing, for what he might have done with us it's better only guessing.? - Arthur Hugh Clough 'There Is No God'

Poet

Aphra Behn

B. 1640 D. 1689

1 poem available

A thousand martyrs I have made, all sacrificed to my desire. - Aphra Behn 'A Thousand Martyrs'

Poet

Anne Finch

B. 1661 D. 1720

1 poem available

And who has greater sense, but greater sorrow shares? - Anne Finch, 'The hog, the sheep and the goat, carrying to a fair'

Poet

Joanna Baillie

B. 1762 D. 1851

1 poem available

Go to thy little senseless play; thou dost not heed my lay. - Joanna Baillie 'A Mother To Her Waking Infant'

Poet

Jonathan Swift

B. 1667 D. 1745

1 poem available

How very mean a thing is a Duke; From all his ill-got honours flung, turned to that dirt from whence he sprung. - Jonathan Swift 'A satirical elegy on the death of a late famous general'

Poet

Mary Leapor

B. 1722 D. 1746

1 poem available

With walking sick, with curtseys lame, and frighted by the scolding dame, poor Mira once again is seen within the bounds of Goslin-Green. - Mary Leapor 'The Visit'

Poet

Christopher Smart

B. 1722 D. 1771

1 poem available

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry. For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him. - Christopher Smart 'My cat Jeoffrey'

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