#EnglishWriters
Noon with a depth of shadow beneat… Shakes in the heat, quivers to the… Half shaded, half sunlit, a great… Glistens purple and golden: the fl… Cool in their panniers of snow: si…
Noonday upon the Alpine meadows Pours its avalanche of Light And blazing flowers: the very shad… Translucent are and bright. It seems a glory that nought surpa…
I would immortalize these nymphs:… Their sunlit colouring, so airy li… It floats like drowsing down. Lov… My doubts, born of oblivious darkn… A subtle tracery of branches grown
At your mouth, white and milk-warm… I taste a strange apocalypse: Your subtle taper finger-tips Weave me new heavens, yet, methink… I know the wiles and each iynx
Thought is an unseen net wherein o… Is taken and vainly struggles to b… Words, that should loose our spiri… New fetters on our hoped-for liber… And action bears us onward like a…
I had remarked—how sharply one obs… When life is disappearing round th… Of yet another corner, out of sigh… I had remarked when it was “good l… And “a good journey to you,” on he…
There is a country in my mind, Lovelier than a poet blind Could dream of, who had never know… This world of drought and dust and… In all its ugliness: a place
We who are lovers sit by the fire, Cradled warm 'twixt thought and wi… Sit and drowse like sleeping dogs In the equipoise of all desire, Sit and listen to the still
Shepherd, to yon tall poplars tune… Let them pierce, keenly, subtly sh… The slow blue rumour of the hill; Let the grass cry with an anguish… And the great sky be mute.
There had been phantoms, pale-reme… Of this and this occasion, sisterl… In their resemblances, each effigy Crowned with the same bright hair… White rounded firmness, and each b…
When the child’s forehead, full of… Cries out for sleep and its pale h… His two big sisters come unto his… Having long fingers, tipped with s… They set him at a casement, open w…
A million million spermatozoa All of them alive; Out of their cataclysm but one poo… Dare hope to survive. And among that billion minus one
Evenings in trains, When the little black twittering g… Along the brims of cuttings, Against the luminous sky, Interrupt with their hurrying rumo…
Old ghosts that death forgot to fe… Across the Lethe of the years - These are my friends, and at their… I weep and with their mirth am mer… On a high tower, whose battlements
Books and a coloured skein of thou… And magic words lay ripening in my… Till their much-whispered music tu… Whose subtlest power was all in my… These things were mine, and they w…