Author: William Ernest Henley

Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She’s the tenant of the room, He’s the ruffian on […]

WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With […]

The beach was crowded. Pausing now and then, He groped and fiddled doggedly along, His worn face glaring on the […]

O gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes, […]

The big teetotum twirls, And epochs wax and wane As chance subsides or swirls; But of the loss and gain […]

Between the dusk of a summer night And the dawn of a summer day, We caught at a mood as […]

“Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.” Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-jack? Or fake the broads? or fig a nag? […]

Though, if you ask her name, she says Elise, Being plain Elizabeth, e’en let it pass, And own that, if […]

The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain They are with us like a disease: They worry the […]

There’s a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad. … Do you not know it […]