They call it Poetry

James Grainger (1721-67):
...Come, muse, let us sing of rats...

Adam Lindsay Gordon (1833-67):
Flash! flash! bang! bang! and we blazed away,
And the grey roof reddened and rang;
Flash! flash! and I felt his bullet flay
The tip of my ear. Flash! bang!

John Armstrong (1709-79):
...that which Cestria sends, tenacious paste
of solid milk...

John Bidlake (1755-1814):
The sluggard carrot sleeps his day in bed
The cripples pea alone cannot stand.

George Crabbe (1754-1832):
And I was ask'd and authorised to go
To seek the firm of Clutterbuck and Co.

William Balmford:
So 'tis with Christians, Nature being weak
While in this world, are liable to leak.

William Wordsworth:
I've measured it from side to side;
Tis three feet long, and two feet wide.

Margaret Cavendish:
What is liquid?
All that doth flow we cannot liquid name
Or else would fire and water be the same;
But that is liquid which is moist and wet
Fire that property can never get
Then 'tis not cold that doth the fire put out.
But 'tis the wet that makes it die, no doubt.

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