#English #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Sometimes I know the way You walk, up over the bay; It is a wind from that far sea That blows the fragrance of your h… Or in this garden when the breeze
My face is against the grass– the… My eyes are shut against the grass… Over my head the curlews call, An… My heart is against the grass and… It does not want to beat any more,
The town is old and very steep A place of bells and cloisters and… And black-clad people walking in t… A nun, a priest, a woman taking fl… To her new grave; and watched from…
Lord when I look at lovely things… Under old trees the shadow of youn… Dancing to please the wind along t… Or the gold stillness of the Augu… Can I believe there is a heavenli…
Bury your heart in some deep green… Or hide it up in a kind old tree; Better still, give it the swallow When she goes over the sea. In Saturday’s Market there’s eggs…
It is the clay what makes the eart… He fills in holes like this year a… The others have gone; they were ti… But I would rather be standing he… There is nowhere else to go. I ha…
Sometimes in the over-heated house… Smirking and speaking rather loud, I see myself among the crowd, Where no one fits the singer to hi… Or sifts the unpainted from the pa…
Here, in the darkness, where this… Stands nearer than God stands to… And one small candle shines, but n… As the far lights of everlastingne… I’d rather kneel than over there,…
Toll no bell for me, dear Father… Waste no sighs; There are my sisters, there is my… Who plays in the place called Par… Your children all, your children f…
The forest road, The infinite straight road stretch… World without end: the breathless… Of the black listening trees: the… Beyond the window that you shut to…
They are cutting down the great pl… For days there has been the grate… The crash of the trunks, the rustl… With the ‘Whoops’ and the ‘Whoas,… I remember one evening of a long p…
To-night again the moon’s white ma… Stretches across the dormitory flo… While outside, like an evil cat The pion prowls down the dark corr… Planning, I know, to pounce on me…
Not for that city of the level sun… Its golden streets and glittering… The shadeless, sleepless city of w… White nights, or nights and days t… We weary, when all is said, all th…
Down the long quay the slow boats… While here and there a house looms… Against the gloom of the waterside… And some high window throws a ligh… As they sail out into the night.
Remember me and smile, as smiling… I have remembered things that went… The dolls with which I grew too w… Or over-wise—kissed, as children d… And so dismissed them; yes, even a…