Author: William Ernest Henley

If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies of time and chance are seldom clear, We would […]

Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence released From the most squalid cellerage […]

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may […]

I am the Reaper. All things with heedful hook Silent I gather. Pale roses touched with the spring, Tall corn […]

A LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies: And from the west, Where the sun, his day’s work ended, Lingers […]