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The dreaming spires of Oxford may be one of the great educational establishments of the Centuries. But it is also a place where the Nation’s young learn much more. Within its walls, courtyards and cloisters these 10 Poets mused and illuminated on the beauty of poetry with eager yet tender words.

In this collection we rely on the words and wisdom of such fine poets as John Milton, Emily Dickinson, Sir Walter Scott, Daniel Sheehan, Wordsworth, Longfellow and a whole host of others to absorb us in a Christmas time of hope and togetherness set amongst a landscape of winter wonderment and Nature’s palest palette. The experiences and memories they share with us speak of a time, of a world, that did have a common purpose and an ambition to share good fortune with everyone.

Katherine O'Flaherty was born on the 8th February 1850 in St Louis, Missouri to parents of French and Irish descent. Kate married Oscar Chopin in 1870 and the couple moved to New Orleans, and later to the rural setting of Cloutierville, Louisiana to raise their 6 children. By the early 1890’s her short stories were published nationally. Despite the criticism, which unnerved her, she continued to write though in the main her works, around 100 short stories and two novels, were not attributed with any literary worth.

Aphra Behn was a prolific and well-established poet and playwright but facts about her life remain scant and difficult to confirm. What can safely be said is that Aphra Behn is regarded as a key English playwright and a major figure in Restoration theatre. Her poetry is now far more appreciated and seen as a breakthrough for women of the 17th Century and beyond. Her first play, ‘The Forc’d Marriage’, was staged in 1670, and thereafter many followed, including her later comic works, which were more commercially successful.

Nathaniel Hawthorne was born on 4th July 1804 in Salem, Massachusetts, a town synonymous with the earlier Salem Witch Trials. It was instrumental in Hawthorne’s later use of American Gothic and dark romanticism in his writing. ‘Rapaccinni’s Daughter’ is a classic piece of literature from his pen. Set in Italy, it is an unsettling story of romance destroyed by science.

Stephen Crane was born 1st November, 1871 in Newark, New Jersey and was the eighth surviving child out of fourteen. Incredibly he began writing at the age of four and was published several times by the age of sixteen.

Arthur Morrison was born on November 1st, 1863, in Poplar, in the East End of London. From the age of eight, after the death of his father, he was brought up, along with two siblings, by his mother, Jane. This volume comes to you from Portable Poetry, a specialised imprint from Deadtree Publishing. Our range is large and growing and covers single poets, themes and many compilations.

This volume proves that the assertion that women are the gentler sex is frequently an unfounded and unlikely description. From the minds and pens of some of the best female writers of the last century comes a series of macabre, twisted tales that are anything but gentle. But as they weave their magic - usually black - and entrance you with their narratives you just know that “sugar and spice and everything nice” are not likely to be what all girls really are made of - and certainly not these femme fatales....

Here, in this volume history’s greatest poets convey thoughts, feelings and sentiments of love to you in quick (or bite-size) conversations of verse that can slip into your day and your partner's heart.

London’s East End has over the centuries been a magnet for immigration, innovation, culture, crime and a vast spectrum of other things. It is often seen as both part of and yet very distinct from the vast metropolis of London. Today it has been transformed from the often grimy, derelict and overcrowded area, that many of these stories describe, into a landscape of gentrification, sleek and shiny buildings and a booming economy. But here such noted talents as Arthur Morrison, Henry W. Nevinson, William Pett Ridge and Thomas Burke show the East End as it really was.

Over the far horizon the blanket of night begins to slowly dissolve. The sun is once more on its daily journey across the heavens. The light begins to sharpen and increase in intensity, revealing the landscape. Morning has begun, and dazed heads and sleepy faces come to terms with the new day. Our poets capture the mood, the emotions and all manner of other details in their descriptions of this time. But then with the calibre of wordsmiths such as Tennyson, Wordsworth, Milton, Southey, Donne and many more besides, we are almost spoilt.

The office of Poet Laureate is a high honour amongst poets. The ancient Greeks had the first idea, and their heroes and poets wore wreaths of laurel in honour of the god Apollo. Many countries now have a laureate, as do many societies and organisations. But perhaps ranked first among them all is that of our own Poet Laureate. Unfortunately no single authentic definitive record exists of the office of Poet Laureate of England. In some form it can be traced back to 1189 and Richard Canonicus, who was employed by Richard I with the title 'versificator Regis'.

It is often said that two things are unavoidable: death and taxes.Certainly the latter is a common thorn in adult life, but as to the former it seems that for many people it is merely a hiccup in life’s eternal journey. A journey they wish, if being of good deed and character, to share at the eternity of heaven’s largesse, a reward for faith and the obligations of religion. Of course for those not so fortunate an altogether different experience was prepared for them: hell.

Women, so often referred to as the gentler sex - in this volume at least, this is an unfounded and unlikely description. From their minds and pens comes a series of macabre, twisted tales that are anything but gentle. But as they weave their magic, usually black, and mesh you into their narrative you just know 'sugar and spice and all things nice' are not likely to be what little girls really are made of and certainly not these femme fatales....

“If music be the food of love, play on" was one of Shakespeare’s finest lines. If music is food then poetry is the wine. In this volume of classic love poetry the flavoured capture of words and rhythms makes us think more carefully of words and their value to us. They also surprise us with their structure and meaning, layering in thoughts and emotions that we might otherwise shy away from. Poems are wonderful ways to express what we feel for a very special someone.

The ninth month of the Gregorian calendar strides onto stage with the autumn equinox and the first glimpses of a new season. Nature may adorn the coming days with a blaze of Indian summer, or the early showers and storms of autumn may begin their symphony. Regardless of Nature’s elemental whims the landscape is a riot of colours, hues and swathes, the harvest of crops continues, the orchards heave with bounty.

In 1890 W. B. Yeats and Ernest Rhys founded a poetry club. Based mainly at Fleet Street’s immortal ‘Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese’ pub, with occasional appearances at the Domino room in the Café Royal, poets gathered together to dine and drink. Whilst it was based on a core of poets, many others attended on an ad hoc basis including Oscar Wilde, Francis Thompson & Lord Alfred Douglas. The camaraderie, banter and poetry that played out in their dreams, ambitions and for many, their difficult lives led Yeats to call them ‘the tragic generation’.

Short stories have always been a sort of instant access into an author’s brain, their soul and heart. In this series we try to offer up tried and trusted ‘Top Tens’ across many different themes and authors. But any anthology will immediately throw up the questions – Why that story? Why that author? Ambrose Bierce is an author whose words take us one way and then send us another. These miniature masterpieces all have a central truth and plausibility that seems to vanish in an ending that can be anything from wry, to shocking to hallucinatory.

Anton Chekhov, Guy de Maupassant, Kate Chopin. These three names thrill the literary world as well as our own. They have gravitas, they have knowledge, experience and they have the literary style and panache to seduce our imagined world. Each has written a short story on pleasured lips placed on another’s flesh. For Chekhov it was a kiss in a darkened room that happened by mistake. Who was she? For Chopin it was a kiss that almost derailed a hoped-for marriage proposal. Why did he do that? For de Maupassant it was a niece seeking advice from her Aunt on when to kiss and whom. And did she?

Katherine Tynan was born on January 23rd, 1859, into a large farming family in Clondalkin, County Dublin, and educated at a convent school in Drogheda. Her output was prolific; some sources have her as the author of almost a 100 novels. Here we concentrate on her poetry. Amongst the classics such as ‘The Wind That Shakes the Barley’ are numerous war poems. She is now sometimes grouped amongst the War Poets of the First World War.